


Hendra Pride

by neichan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe, BDSM, First Time, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-02
Updated: 2005-11-02
Packaged: 2019-02-05 16:24:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12798123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neichan/pseuds/neichan
Summary: Sentinel Concept Original Fic. The ruling sentinel pride is the Hendra Pride. A new guide enters the house-holding.WARNING: AU, Non-con, Hurt/Comfort, Preslash, First Time, Kinks, Fantasy, m/m, graphic sex, slash, bloodplay, Dark Themes, Adult Situations, Voyeurism, Rape, Cutting, violence, D/s





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

Kion was happy when the call came, though it did interrupt his negotiations with a particularly challenging client. He loved the negotiations, loved wrapping them up neatly, binding the agreements together so skillfully, so tightly they never came apart, the more difficult the entire process, the sweeter the final victory. But postponing the negotiation was worth it this time, even if he lost the opportunity represented altogether, this was worth it, absolutely.

 

He’d waited years for a perfect Match, the perfect Guide, unwilling to struggle with a partial Match and all the potential side effects after watching two of the members of his Pride deal with that. Now, finally, he was going to be able to take a full Bond, not subsist on temporary measures, loaned Guides, his Omegas, and near misses any longer. It wasn’t as if his Omegas weren’t good, they were, Bond with them was good. But they weren’t Guides. The difference was subtle, but unmistakable. And Kion wanted to have the perfect Bond with a Matched Guide. The one Nature meant for him to Bond with.

 

He drove at least ten miles an hour over the posted speed limit getting to the Pound, but he had no fear of being stopped. His car was well known, his Pride affiliation even more so. If there was a true North American royal family, he was part of it.

 

He was thirty-five, a few years older than usual for a Guide to be found for a Sentinel. But he was a Guardian Sentinel, and with that kind of power and extreme sensitivity he’d had to wait for a Guide of Empath level before a true Match was possible. No way was he going to take up with a partial Match.

 

He’d waited for the word to come down, waking every day, hoping it would be "that" day, waiting to hear the Match he needed had been found all the way down to the genetic level. At least once a month he gave in to the urge to call the Veterinary Board of Guide Medicine and inquire of they had found his Guide. Until today the answer had always been a polite and painful "no".

 

Finally, today, he’d been lucky. Blessed. He was shaking by the time he arrived at the Pound, and had to take a few moments to calm himself. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, almost hard enough to bend the tough metal and plastic. Then he made himself release it. Time to go inside. What he wanted was inside the building, not out here in the parking lot. He opened the door and got out.

 

Now, he was going to pick up his Guide at the Saskat Pound. He knew nothing else about the Guide, not age, nor gender, or ethnicity. While all Sentinels were male, Guides could be of either gender.

 

His secretary had taken the message, come into the room after a discrete knock, interrupting his meeting. He’d blinked his surprise, read the brief notation, looked up into the happy, glowing face of his secretary, then rose to his feet, apologized, and told the client that he had to go. With more apologies. And promises that another member of his Pride would call and complete the negotiations as soon as possible.

 

The client was an influential man, and not used to waiting for things, but Kion did outrank him, hands down. He’d backed off without a show of displeasure. Such a display might cost him future deals with the Hendra Pride. And that would be costly indeed.

 

Now Kion was here, at the Saskat Pound. In a few steps he’d be with the Guide, his Guide. He thought again how nice it would be if the Guide were attractive. But he told himself it didn’t matter all that much.

 

His favorite Guide of all the ones his Pride mates owned was Arhket. Plain, slim, slightly balding, kind. He did hope his Guide would be female, simply because it was his lifelong preference. Still, it was Bonding, not true sex when a Guide and a Sentinel joined. And he knew how rare female Empaths were. And after all, Guides and Sentinels were so genetically dissimilar they could not reproduce together. They were two different subspecies of the genus to which all humans belonged.

 

Sex wasn’t required for a good Bond. It was just that when one was caught up in the Bonding, sex sometimes happened. Kion had to admit to himself, that at those times he had cared almost nothing about whether his Guide was male or female. And he sure as hell hadn’t cared when he and his male Omegas had rubbed each other to orgasm during Bonding. He just never sought out men purely for sex. He wasn’t really attracted to them that way. He couldn’t get it up for a man without the Bond.

 

He moved smoothly across the parking lot, taking the shortest path to the door, knowing the tags on his car would keep him from being ticketed for daring to take a reserved space. The three purple tags identified him as a member of the Saskat leading family, a Guardian, and a member of Hendra Pride, Saskat’s primary Pride. Any one of the three put him above normal law enforcement rules, the three together would scare off just about anyone who didn’t want to commit career suicide. He almost laughed aloud, but it was a bitter thought as well. Having a high Rank had some advantages, but other things were purely chance, and nothing he did changed that. It hadn’t changed the fact no Guide had Matched him before now.

 

He strode towards the facilities front doors. He was taller than any of the people milling around him, and broad, muscular, in phenomenal shape. His training in the military took care of that. He was dressed head to toe in charcoal gray, his hair cut military short, was black, his skin darkly tanned, his eyes chillingly pale gray.

 

His level of excitement was high, but the only clue an observer would have aside from his restless tail, were the tips of his fangs pressing into his lower lip. His fangs had fully extended, and he didn’t even try to withdraw them. He did manage to keep his lethal claws sheathed, he didn’t want to frighten anyone. He almost grinned, his six foot, muscular tail lashed side to side for several beats before going still, calm. Thierry was starting to rub off on him.

 

Thierry his Senior Sentinel Pride mate. Thierry who thought it ridiculous that it was considered polite for Sentinels to withdraw fangs and claws in public, or to go cloaked so their tails didn’t show, upsetting the Mundane population, for some reason. It seemed some Mundanes thought the Sentinel’s tail had a sexual purpose.

 

But Thierry didn’t see why he should hide any part of himself simply to please another. And no one had had the nerve yet to tell the six and a half foot tall, half Cajun, half Hispanic Sentinel to mind his manners. That would be worth seeing. Thierry didn’t tolerate people butting into what he viewed as his personal business. His fangs were his to display as he wished, same with the claws, and most especially his tail. He took special enjoyment lashing his tail back and forth in public, drawing attention to the muscular appendage.

 

Kion approached the crowded desk, towering over the many people filling the Guide Distribution section of the Pound. He was tall even for a Sentinel. He nodded to some of the other Sentinels he recognized, but no words were exchanged. Amusingly, it was not quite as busy on the Guide’s side of the Pound as the opposite side of the lobby where people were lined up to adopt a dog or cat, or find out if the family pet had turned up here after being lost.

 

He felt the mass of Sentinels gathered up on this side like a weight against his mind, all taller than the average, all surrounded by a low grade hum of energy that marked a Sentinel. They were all tense, all anxious, excited, many shifting from foot to foot. The natural state for a Sentinel was to be in motion, not to stand waiting in a line. The youngest were here to have genetic markers taken. The rest to pick up Guides. And as one they all turned to look in Kion’s direction. He walked right up to the desk, not looking at the others. The one thing on his mind was his Guide. And only a direct threat to his person would have distracted him from his mission.

 

He was hard to miss. Not classically handsome by any stretch, but definitely striking, square jawed, towering, almost bulky, even for a Sentinel, and with a feline grace, the legacy of a lifetime of martial arts training and hand to hand combat. He had a presence that always attracted attention. The people in the Pound were not an exception. One by one they stepped back from his advance, his aura vibrating through all of them to a differing degree, depending on their own sensitivity, as he passed their hands reached out toward him, toward the allure of his power.

 

No one actually touched him, they just brushed against his aura as he passed, fingers splayed wide, sensing the warm thickness of his energy field. Soaking up his intensity. Reveling in the flavor of it. He made no indication that it bothered him, it was a pleasurable sensation to be stroked by virtual touches, fingers that ghosted over the edges of his aura. As long as none actually touched his skin he allowed the almost touches. He was a Guardian, and as such it was one of his roles, to balance the systems of subordinate standard Sentinels within his territory. Just as his Omegas balanced his.

 

Politely, none actually made contact with his skin, though if they had been in true need, experiencing Bonding Heat without a Guide available, it was acceptable for them to request that. And wait for him to grant the request or deny it. And he’d likely have granted a pseudo-Bond, at least on most days. But today he would not have enjoyed it. Not while he waited for the most important new addition to his life.

 

He hadn’t even had time to identify himself when he reached the desk, the Sentinel guard was standing, recognizing him, and moving to take him into the room where his Guide was being prepared for his viewing. Most everyone recognized him in Saskat, he’d been born here, grew up here, his pranks and his accomplishments well documented in the media, married into the Pride, and being of the leading family, he could hardly avoid the local and national press. From the first "American Prince" pictures of him as a newborn to the myriad ones of him as a soldier to the most popular ones when Thierry had accepted him as Junior Sentinel in the Hendra Pride, he’d gotten used to being photographed, and used to seeing his face plastered all over the Province.

 

The guard strode ahead of Kion, a big man, another Sentinel, but Beta, not Alpha. Subordinate to Kion all the way down to his genes. They moved swiftly in tandem step down the wide, pale yellow walled hallway, the carpet under their feet absorbing most of the noise, neither man speaking, until the guard opened a side door and ushered Kion inside. Kion stepped into the medium sized room and looked around. The door closed softly behind him with an airless whoosh. Kion looked around. More yellow, light green furniture, well padded, new, and brown throws across the backs of the two couches, and numerous chairs, cushions, a covered mattress. Many Sentinels took their Guides in first Bonding at the Pound, unable to resist.

 

Three people were inside the room. Two doctors, and one small figure huddled in a chair. Kion barely glanced at the doctors, he stepped up to the miserable huddle and went to his knees. He ignored the comfortable chair they tried to seat him in, the fine wine that waited his approval on the small glass topped table. He was more interested in the small body curled in on itself, rocking back and forth, surprisingly strong looking arms wrapped around bent legs.

 

The figure smelled of drugs and fear, and vaguely unhealthy. He frowned at that. He leaned forward, feeling the Bond drawing him in, the closeness of their Match acting instantly to pull him to the pathetic figure. Their genetic structures made it impossible for them to stay apart once they were in proximity. He smoothed back a few damp strands from his Guide’s forehead. The Guide leaning into his touch, seeking more, seeking security and comfort.

 

He tilted the youth’s head back, and saw how out of it the young man was, his head lolling. Kion expected the drugging, it was rote, to medicate the Guide, to lessen the chances of hysteria until the Guide could be acclimated to the new situation and the terrifying presence of the Sentinel. Kion believed that to be overly dramatic, an ego-stroke for the Sentinel, but he accepted the Pound would feel they had to medicate his Guide.

 

A tendril of anger filtered into him. Guides were usually small and tended to be delicate, submissive. The opposite of the Sentinels, who were aggressive and physically imposing. He didn’t like that his Guide was drugged, unable to defend himself. It roused his own hyper-protective instincts. The young man seemed almost unaware that he was here, aside from responding to his touch. Even drugged the Guide rubbed his face on the Sentinel’s skin. Kion forced his anger out, and away, knowing the sensitive young man would pick it up. He moved his arms around the trembling form.


	2. Part 2

"Oh, I have waited for you so long," Kion murmured, under his breath, the words only for the Guide, brushing back the long hair, hair that fell across the pale face. It was a shock to see how young the Guide was. Androgynous, but still undeniably male, suddenly that mattered less than nothing. The Bond was so deep and pure, singing between them instantly, a warmth that grew into a sweet hum, Kion would not have changed a single thing, not even the Guide’s gender if he could have. But his face, the Guide’s face…it was too young. He looked up at the doctors uncertainly. He was not going to take a child to Bond, no matter his own need, or how long he’d waited for this. "How old is he?"

 

"He is of legal age. An adult." The nearest doctor moved closer, held out his ID card, letting Kion read it. He was very careful not to touch either the Sentinel or the Guide. "I am Doctor Clive Maxwell, I will be your Guide’s veterinarian when he needs medical or psychiatric care. We find that Guides respond better to people they know well, are familiar with, not strangers. A Guide should keep one doctor as long as possible, and if that changes, if it must change, it is best to have the first few meetings with the new practitioner take place with the old physician."

 

Kion looked skeptical. The doctor’s aura brushed against his, strange…he felt strange… Kion shook his head to clear it. "He doesn’t look old enough to bond." There was something about this man, he sniffed the air. But it was not scent that was so different. It was…something else. Kion glanced over at the second doctor and pointedly looked at the door. The other man needed no additional hint, he left, clipboard clutched to his chest, leaving the other doctor with his own clipboard in the room. Then Kion’s attention was redirected to the small form of his Guide. The doctor, Maxwell, asked for permission to touch the Guide. Kion almost growled, but nodded instead.

 

Very carefully the doctor folded down the youth’s lip so the tattooing there was visible. "You see, as of today he is nineteen years of age. I know he looks like he is younger, but many of the Guide facilities don’t know how to feed them correctly. The Guides are often inadequately nourished when we get them. Guide Chow is not enough, they need fresh foods, fruits, vegetables and good quality proteins. We have been working to get him on a good diet with plenty of calories, and into an exercise program, but it hasn’t been easy. He likes the strength training, he is a little more muscular that most Guides, but I’d hoped you wouldn’t mind, being a Guardian, and needing a Guide with more endurance than a standard Guide. I’d say he is lonely, and frightened. He was weeping continuously when he first arrived, before we sedated him. In the facilities, it is common for several of the underage Guides to share a bed for comfort. They need touch and other physical contact. Once they arrive here we don’t let them sleep together. They must learn to focus on their upcoming Bond. They have to start getting ready to Serve. The Empaths even more than the standard Guides. But it is very hard on them. It really is important to the health of the Guide to be allowed lots of physical contact."

 

The doctor was watching Kion’s reaction to the statement carefully. And Kion gently took the leash that was clipped to the Guide pad the boy rested atop. The Guide stood obediently, head down, as Kion examined him. Running his hands carefully over the Guide’s slender form, fingering the long, weighty fall of midnight blue-black hair. It flowed though his grasp like watered silk. The faintly golden, ivory toned skin was smooth and flawless. The muscles were toned and showed promise, he decided he liked them. He would plan on keeping up the physical training the Pound had begun.

 

"Definitely too thin," Kion remarked to the doctor, using the leash to lift the boy’s head. The heavy waves of blue-black hair fell back from the elfin features. "But very beautiful. I am glad to see he has been left in his natural state." The heavy mass of hair fell back, and Kion couldn’t resist running a hand through it. He wanted to press it to his face with both hands, to inhale it’s fragrance, feel it’s softness. He imagined it on his bare body, and the flush went instantly to his groin, making his penis begin to fill, heavy, aroused. His fangs ached, his claws flashed into full extension, his tail quivering.

 

"Sentinel Guardian, we allow the Sentinel Owners to choose what modifications they want. We are a fully equipped facility, and we can make whichever adjustments you prefer. I’ll get you the paper work when you are done examining him." Dr. Maxwell assured the Sentinel, his voice low and soothing, the tone that worked well with Sentinels. Kion shivered and wondered again, just what was different about the doctor. "I have noted that you are registered as heterosexual, we can dock him if it would be more to your liking."

 

"I am thinking that for now, I like him mostly as he is." Kion said. Trying not to strike out at the doctor for suggesting such a thing. For suggesting something that would hurt his Guide. Facing the youth now, he could not bear to think of him altered in that way. Castration of male Guides was not uncommon, but not yet the norm either. They’d Matched as two males. Let nature win this one. She had wanted them to be like this. Kion could deal with it. Besides, Thierry would go ballistic if he docked his Guide. Thierry believed such practices to be barbaric.

 

"He is leash trained, to all kinds of leashes. Trained to the collar, as you can see, though no doubt you will want to put your own Crest collar on him. Nor does he have the teeth latching. If his speaking is a problem that is the most effective way to control it. I am of the belief prolonged gagging of a Guide is inhumane. The teeth-latch is analogous to muzzling a dog. Much less likely to cause any problems of the jaw or mouth. It is easy to release, with practice it takes only a fraction of a second, and the latticework is quite beautiful."

 

"No, I don’t think having him able to speak will be a problem. My father has one of each, a permanently latched Guide and one who is unlatched. But those ways are old. I want my Guide to be able to speak to me. I want him not to be afraid to talk to me." Kion eased the Guide over to rest against his knee as he sat in the comfortable chair. He stroked the soft hair. He balled up the extraordinary hair in his fist, reveled in the texture. Watched it slide through his fingers.

 

The room was warm, and that pleased Kion, it told him the Pound was paying attention to the health and comfort of the Guides. His new Guide, though nude, was still able to feel comfortable at room temperature here. The Guide settled down on the floor cheek resting on Kion’s thigh, seeking physical contact. Kion stroked the soft, lush hair as it pooled around the Guide’s slender hips, letting his sensitive fingers wander to the smooth skin of the youth’s face. "His hair is wonderful, you will not alter it in any way."

 

"Yes, quite beautiful, we will do nothing to change it, as you wish. Now as to other modifications you might want to consider. The front teeth can be removed to prevent biting. Or all the teeth, but I don’t recommend that." The Doctor met Kion’s frowning face.

 

"No. He’ll need his teeth." Kion said with no hesitation. "And you will be aware I want nothing of his removed, nothing at all. He is as he should be. There will be no docking, no pulling of teeth. No nipping or tucking."

 

"Well then, tongue piercing can improve the oral pleasure he can give you. Or piercing the lips for the same reason, with the added benefit of locking the rings together if you feel the need to control his mouth or his food. That is something I recommend if the Guide starts to gain too much weight, and needs to be placed on a diet." The Doctor spoke softly, his tone very gentle, almost soothing. Kion managed not to strike him. But he began to feel ill. He did not want to think of someone daring to do these things to his Guide.

 

"He is too skinny now." Kion pointed out. Barely suppressing his revulsion at thinking of those beautiful lips pierced and deformed. To alter the shape of the perfect curve, to distract from the rose pink of the lips would be unforgivable. "For now, I’d say no."

 

"OK. Ear piercing for decorative purposes..." the Doctor asked tentatively. Some of the questions were upsetting the Sentinel. He could tell that. "Other piercings for jewelry…"

 

"Yes, definitely." This Kion did approve of. The idea of his Crest markings on a pair of simple ear hoops letting everyone know to whom the Guide belonged…. And to make the Guide even more beautiful, make him feel cared for, cherished. So he could buy his gifts of jewelry.

 

"We can place the collar on him for you. Nipple piercing is very common, both for decoration and to enhance his responses, make him more sensitive. It does add pleasure for both Sentinel and Guide."

 

"Yes, to that as well." Kion continued to stroke the sleek head of his Guide. The doctor made more notations, then turned to the next plast-sheet.

 

"A waist or hip collar is a good idea, it can take far more strain than a neck collar if the Guide should struggle, or need restraint for a painful procedure. Bilateral wrist braceleting with your crest?" Seeing Kion’s nod of agreement, he made another notation. "Then genital piercing, most commonly through the glans of the penis, but it has become increasingly popular to place piercings through one or both testicles. The purpose of these piercings vary, depending on the owner. We have training and informational classes on the use of the piercings."

 

"I think that is a little extreme for now. I do not want him hurt." Kion told the doctor. His face had gone stony, stiff. Clive lowered his eyes to the clipboard to give the Sentinel time to calm down.

 

"I don’t think It is necessary to discuss anything else." Kion considered the options unacceptable, his face showed increasing revulsion, and a growing anger, his face flushed, his fangs dropping into full extension. Clive stared at him, not knowing what to say now. Kion shuddered, filling the silence with his precise, clipped words. "Nor do I want him dependent to that degree. He must be able to run and be in excellent condition. He will be sharing my life, not waiting at home for me to return to him nightly."

 

"Very wise, Sentinel Kion." Clive murmured, trying to keep his tone perfectly neutral, keeping his head lowered, being doubly sure the Sentinel did not find him a threat to the Guide’s well being. "We also have a seminar, takes about six weekends to complete about restraining and disciplining of the Guide for new owners. There is also a network if you wish to exchange Guides with other Sentinels. And if you wish to trade him in at a later date we keep a record of those who are interested in attaining him, so that fewer Guides have to be put down. It really is a shame to see a Guide who is healthy but at say twenty-five is no longer appealing to one owner, have no chance at a second adoption with someone else who just needs a companion, and is less likely to fuss about age."

 

"That sounds very humane, but this is a true Matching. I will not be giving him up because of his advancing age. I would like to have wrist and ankle bands placed on him. None of the Guides in my Pride have ever been turned out, or sold, or put down for being too old. We do not believe in it. Does that cover everything?" Kion’s patience was wearing thin, his voice was almost a hiss. His face was angry. "Do none of you value these Guides you care for? Are they truly only pets, is he only a pet, this one who I have waited all my life to Match?"

 

"No Sentinel, they are not pets. I know that. I wish all the Bonds were true Matches, everything would be much more pleasant. But few are, and that is the reality I have to live and work with. Just one more item." The doctor barely spoke, his voice a faint whisper. "I am required by law to give you these options, to certify you are fully informed. Please do not be distressed. Foot binding, or docking of body parts. The foot binding consists of training him to elevated shoes. I recommend this only if you know he won’t need to walk often. It will restrict his movement, his likelihood to flee if he is frightened, and as an added benefit, it is very attractive to some Owners. But it will mean he can’t walk far, and running will be impossible. Now docking of body parts. That includes tongue, fingers, toes or genitals. The tongue can be partially or completely removed, the same for fingers, toes or genitals. Here I have photographs of the options for all of the operations."

 

Kion took little time to look over the pictures and almost threw them back shaking his head, he felt raw nausea surging in his gut. His hands shook. He knew these things were done to the Guides. He had seen Guides who had had the procedures. He looked up into the doctor’s face. This man had done these things to other Guides. I was his job. But not this time. His Guide was perfect. He could not bear to think of him damaged like that.

 

"Really the only other modification I’d like is to have his body hair removed. Leave his head hair, his eyebrows and eye lashes intact, remove everything else. I will have his collars and bands sent over, as well as the jewelry I want on him. I don’t want him alone, I have called for one of my men to come and stay with him. He will stay with my Guide for every moment, in the treatment rooms, for bathing, for sleeping, there is never to be a moment when they are separated. Do we understand each other?" The Sentinel froze, pupils dilating hugely, Clive found himself shrinking back for the blazing intensity of the man.


	3. Part 3

Kion leaned in even closer to the other man. He drew in the scent of the man, deep into his nostrils and analyzed the smell, resting his hand on the neck of his new Guide. His smile was feral. He let his fangs show, glinting. "You would make an appealing Guide yourself. I can taste you. What do you think of that? Shall we discuss your own modifications?"

 

"Stay with him, Sentinel? Who...?" The doctor was obviously puzzled. Then the last part of the statement hit him. His heart started to pound, his palms wet as he clutched his clipboard. He took a step backwards. His voice was barely more than a squeak. "What do you mean?"

 

"My man will stay with him, over night if necessary. Until he can be taken to my home. When will that be?" Kion chose not to answer the question Clive really wanted answered. He merely regarded the other man with sharp, mist gray eyes that burned with a cold fire.

 

"Tomorrow evening. We will keep him sedated until then. Would you care for us to pack up a month’s supply of aphrodisiacs? Sedatives? You can order additional supplies from us if you need them. It will ease the Bonding for the Guide…" Clive swallowed hard, flipping through the plasts. He found it impossible to lift his eyes and meet the gaze of the Sentinel. Those eyes saw too much, would not miss his fear, the Sentinel had already heard his accelerated heartbeat, scented his distress.

 

"No. Thank you." The door opened, and a broad shouldered man with a bondsman’s braid, thick as Clive’s wrist, entered the room. He wore the Hendra Pride’s Crest on his soft cloth tunic, and the dark gray of Prince Kion’s personal livery. He was a few years older than Kion, shorter, but just as muscular. His scarred face was roughly masculine, stern and yet handsome.

 

An Omega Sentinel, Dr. Maxwell noted, impressed, even through his terror. Kion must be more powerful than widely speculated to be able to command an Omega. The man’s red eyes glowed ominously. He stepped forward and took Kion’s hand, pressing his lips to the plain gold ring the Alpha Sentinel wore. Kion stayed seated, his touch wandering gently over the body of his Guide.

 

"Thaen, I am glad you are here. I would like you to meet my Guide. We will have to think of a name for him, one that lives up to his beauty. Stay with him, do not leave his side. Bring him home to me when it is safe. Keep him from hurt and from harm. You hold my life in your hands, cher." Kion’s voice changed when he spoke to this man, the doctor noted. It grew softer, deeper, warmer, more commanding, incredibly alluring. Clive Maxwell felt goosebumps wash over his skin, but not cold, rather in a wave of heat.

 

"I will protect your Guide, Saer." The Omega rumbled. He had not yet relinquished the other man’s hand, nor did he seem inclined to do so. Kion was not uncomfortable with this, the doctor noted. But there was none of the usual indications these men were lovers. In fact if asked the doctor would be willing to state they were definitely not.

 

No, this was a Sentinel thing, and who but a Sentinel could understand it’s many meanings? Clive had an urge to run, tried to stand, but found his legs would not work, that he could not gain his feet. He was quivering, muscles like Jell-O, useless. He stayed in his seat, the one he’d fallen into when he backed away from the Guardian Sentinel, trapped. He had a very bad feeling about this, this was not going to be a good ending. Only his clenched jaw kept his teeth from chattering loudly.

 

Saer was an ancient word, it meant leader, or master, or sire. It could only be used in very special circumstances. If the wrong person used it, or it was uttered to the wrong person, in the wrong circumstance, it was a killing offense. The instructors at the Veterinarian college had told the young Doctor Maxwell that it was better never to attempt to learn the right time to use the honorific, to stick to the more common words of respect, than to risk misusing this particular word. Still for a long moment Clive Maxwell felt a sharp almost unbearable pain, envy, and regret, that this Omega could use it, understood the fine points of it’s use, and he with his years of education, could not.

 

"Now is the time for you to go, doctor." The Alpha Sentinel’s words washed over him, and Clive tried to stand once more, pushing against the arms of the chair, his limbs shaking, having no strength, what was wrong with him? He felt panic rising to choke him as he fought to gain his feet. He failed. He was reduced to sitting where he was watching in terror and fascination, knowing he was the one who would pay whatever price there was. He made a small sound of fear, and distress, and the red eyes of the Omega locked with his own, that primitive beast showing so clearly in his heated gaze, hungry and dangerous. Kion seemed to have lost interest. But, it was his voice that filled Clive’s ears.

 

"So be it." The tall, gray eyed Sentinel said. "Stay if you must. Cher." He nodded to the Omega, the endearment rolling off his tongue with the ease of years. With the surety of affection, trust and a solid abiding love.

 

The Omega knelt next to the Guide and with his free hand tilted back the bowed head. Glassy, dark amber eyes, almond shaped, up tilted, and exquisite, surrounded by lush lashes, like fine, deepest black lace, tried to focus. The drugs prevented it. But, the Omega cradled the slender body against his broad chest. Murmuring something low into the shell-like ear, as he lay the Guide down on his back, arranged his limbs carefully. The Guardian failed to do what he should have been driven to do, he made no move to stop the other from touching his Guide.

 

Then the Omega proceeded to scent the body stretched out below him. Running his hands over every inch, finally giving up his hold on Kion’s hand. Kion transferring his touch to the Guide’s head as he went to his knees next to his man and his Guide. The doctor stared, fascinated, his fear temporarily forgotten.

 

Not many people witnessed interactions between Alphas and Omegas. And he had never heard of this behavior. An Alpha allowing any one else to imprint his Guide. Hands, mouth, tongue, skin, body and soul, it was so glaringly clear that the Omega was indeed Claiming the Guide that Clive was stunned. It was impossible. It couldn’t happen. Guardians, Sentinels couldn’t share. All the experts agreed. They Owned. The experts were fools. The Sentinels had kept them from knowing this, from even a whisper of the truth.

 

The Omega was trembling. Omegas were rare, so rare. Clive racked his brain trying to recall all he’d heard. Omega Sentinels never Bonded to their own Guides. He knew he’d heard that as a fact. Was it true? In view of the other things he’d just discovered…How was he to know? He assumed it was true, it might not be. It seemed that Omegas Bonded to other Sentinels, yes, he’d been taught that, but now, how could he deny that they did also Bond to Guides, the Guides of other Sentinels? Guides they shared, but did not Own. How?

 

Doctor Clive Maxwell had no idea. Why did Omegas Bond to other Sentinels’ Guides? This seemed proof that yes, they did Bond to Guides as well as to Sentinels. For the purpose of protecting the Guide? Why not to Guides of their own? Why?

 

"Learn him, Thaen. Learn him, own him, protect him. My Guide is in your care. I turn him over to you." And Kion stood, facing the doctor. He frowned, cool gray eyes narrowing into slivers of near ice. "Doctor Maxwell. It is unfortunate you are still here. This is a private thing. Omega and Alpha Sentinels know of it, others do not. It can not be learned of, it is private. You will come with me. You are ours now. I will Claim you as my second Guide."

 

"But…I am not…." Clive twitched as his arm was grabbed just above the elbow in a vise like grip, and he was lifted like he weighed less than a child, half hanging in the Sentinel’s powerful grasp. He only just managed not to drop the sheaf of plasts he was holding. The Sentinel was strong, much stronger than a normal human of the same size. The doctor felt his arm go numb. He had known the fact, but experiencing the reality was so very different. This degree of strength was overwhelming.

 

"Not the time for a discussion. I have Marked you. Come now, or die where you stand." Long, glistening claws slid out of their sheaths warningly one set digging into his biceps, the other set on display where his eyes were drawn to the lethal curves, Kion waited for the comprehension to fill the man’s eyes. The doctor nodded, one quick jerk of his head. He was caught, there was nothing left for him to do but to give in. Kion’s big hand hovered over his face, claws gradually sheathing. "I feel you, doctor. I can hardly wait to taste you." But, he offered no more explanation than that while Clive cringed.

 

"Let me leave the papers at the desk to be processed. There should be no delay in preparing your Guide." The doctor begged, voice an unsteady whisper. It was important. It was his job. If the Sentinel Claimed him, killed him, then he could at least know he’d done his job. He realized even as he thought it, it sounded ridiculous. Yet, he was grateful when Kion tossed the folder on the desk as they passed it.

 

The woman seated at the desk stared at the Sentinel dragging the doctor beside him. Every eye in the waiting room was on them. Clive would have hidden in mortified embarrassment if fear did not already paralyze him. Even the Sentinel Guard stepped deliberately aside, making it clear the Alpha Sentinel was not challenged, nor questioned, not even as he dragged an employee of the Pound outside.

 

All heads turned towards them as Kion half carried the doctor out to his car. No one moved to stop the Sentinel. He put the other man in the passenger seat, fastened the lap belt, started the car, and pulled out into the lane of traffic with Sentinel quick precision. He spoke while he did so, not bothering with his own belt.


	4. Part 4

"Fasten the shoulder safety harness." Then he activated the comm unit. "Thierry. It is Kion. I am fifteen minutes from the compound. I am bringing in a Near Guide. He witnessed an Omega ritual. And, I think he is more than he seems. He feels….unusual. I want your opinion on him." Kion took the turn out of the parking lot with quick efficiency.

 

"Have you decided what to do with him?" The voice was a deep, rich bass, like smooth, dark chocolate. Clive shivered. That voice was dangerous. The man who it belonged to was dangerous. And he was being driven to meet this man. He so didn’t want that to happen.

 

"No. I am going over my options. I will make a decision when I arrive, after we have spoken, Senior." Kion replied, his attention both on the call and the road. Clive's hair was standing on end when he realized just how rapid the speed they were traveling was. He braced his feet on the floorboards and held on to the door and the side of the seat.

 

"Do you want Takae-nahl waiting?" The deep voice asked, but it was more a statement, almost designed to distract the Sentinel to less upsetting matters. Clive heard the edge leave Kion’s voice. He had not been aware of the degree of the tension riding the Sentinel. But, the other man, even over the phone knew, and responded to calm him. Clive was grateful as Kion’s foot eased on the accelerator. He licked his dry lips.

 

"Yes. Have him meet us in the carport. I will turn the doctor over to him, so you and I may talk. Thank you, Ti." Kion was suddenly almost human, his stern face smoothed a bit. His lips, no longer pressed so tightly together, were fuller. Clive stared from under his lashes.

 

"Will do. Is this person useful? Does he have any skills we might benefit from?" Thierry continued the campaign of distraction.

 

"He is a Vet. Specializing in Guide Medicine." Kion said, maneuvering the car between other vehicles as if they stood still. But, at least he was doing it at a more survivable speed now. Still, Clive didn’t let go of the door handle he was gripping so tightly. His other hand was checking the shoulder harness, pulling it snug.

 

"That is useful." The voice tried to remain neutral, but suddenly it sounded very interested. Clive shuddered.

 

Kion sighed. "Yes. I understand, Senior." He cut off the comm and spared Clive a speculative look. then he returned his attention to piloting the car through traffic.

 

"He wants to keep you. He will not tell me to kill you." Kion never looked in Clive’s direction as he made that statement. "That may work out well. I would hate to lose your talents. I have never allowed anyone who has learned of the Omega Bond to survive the knowledge."

 

Clive swallowed, or tried to, but his throat was dry. "You are considering killing me?" He managed to squeak. "I....."

 

"Yes, I was considering it, or selling you after finding a Pride who could keep you silent. Not any longer. Thierry is Senior in my Pride. He doesn’t wish your talents wasted. We have six Pride Sentinels. Three Seniors, Thierry is eldest. He has three Guides. Not a one is his perfect Match, though they are close, and they are getting older. They are sometimes unhealthy. He worries for them. You can care for them, if your skills prove good enough. I am the only Sentinel in the Pride who has one Guide. All my Pride Brothers have at least two Guides a piece. I waited for my Match. They were not permitted the time to wait. Because of them, I was able to do so. I am grateful for what they have done."

 

Clive knew the Hendra Pride was powerful and influential. He had not known they had so many Guides.

 

"We have fourteen Omegas. Two belong to me. Takae-nahl is my Omega Prime. You have met his Second, Thaen. Ones belonging to my Senior Thierry are Bey, Finn, and Phaedre. You will meet them when we arrive." Clive gaped at him. He had not even guessed there were fourteen Omegas in the entire province, let alone in the city itself. He marveled that no gossip had alerted him to their presence.

 

Fourteen Omegas? Three owned by one Senior Alpha Sentinel? How was it possible? Was he misunderstanding the man? Was this something that was common and just not known to the public? Not known to him, a specialist in Guides, and so, vicariously, a sort of specialist in Sentinels. Clive was silent, his brain humming as they approached their destination.

 

The Omega waiting in front of all the others, in front of the mob in the carport was tall and imposing. His hair was dark brown and braided in the Omega braid. He was horned, with golden-bronze horns sweeping back from his forehead towards the crown of his head, then up and spreading wider to points, razor sharp, about six inches above the top of his head. He stepped forward when Kion came around the car and took his hand, kissing the ring. They shared a look, and then together turned toward the puzzled and apprehensive young doctor, the Omega looming over the Guardian Alpha. The Omega’s blazing crimson gaze unnerved Clive more than the bizarre horns. He tried to remember which Sentinel ethnicity had horns… The den-Baehr? Exotics. He'd seen pictures.

 

They were still holding hands, the two massive men. Clive wondered why it didn’t seem odd, in fact it seemed very comfortable. Both men were beyond masculine, they were male through and through. Yet, they seemed natural touching each other with fingers entwined. But, there was none of the romantic sense, or flirtatiousness Clive expected. They simply belonged like this, they meshed into a complete whole, complimentary, compatible. They looked as at home as if they held automatic lasers, or ceremonial swords.

 

He turned when someone else, another man, came to the front of the group of people gathered at the side of the drive. And Clive gaped. This man was, if possible, even more magnificent. Not as tall as the den-Baehr, but radiating authority, presence.

 

This man was mahogany-brown skinned, huge, so blatantly an Alpha Sentinel, and truly frightening to look at. He walked like a predator, a gliding, stalking gait, a Primal Sentinel far beyond the Guardian Sentinel that was so admired and feared. Dangerous, deadly. His hands were human, until his finger tips, then they sported sharp, bone white claws at least two inches long. His eyes drifted over Clive as if it were an actual touch. With his near hand the imposing, dark man pointed at the ground. And despite being Mundane all his life, and not ruled directly by the Sentinels, Clive Maxwell dropped to his knees. He stayed down on his knees for half a second trembling, then his hands also hit the ground, and he put his face into the dirt. And other than the trembling, he was still as stone, waiting. The back of his neck feeling terribly bare.

 

Belatedly, Clive realized he didn’t have to obey the man. But, the authority in the voice as it rumbled into his ears made it a virtual necessity he did, the command of the gesture, the claw pointing down, he could not have refused….

 

The man’s presence washed over his skin. So, now Clive was on his hands and knees, like a well trained Guide, in the most submissive pose, and everyone was looking at him. They were all Sentinels, either Omegas or Alphas. No Guides in the group and no Mundanes. Only Sentinels had come out to meet him and Kion. Shit. And not normal, everyday variety Betas or even standard Sentinels. Just the most scary men he’d ever been near.

 

"Does he know he has talent?" One of the other Sentinels asked curiously, his pale blue eyes intent, almost hungry, his smooth tenor voice holding that same tone that had made Clive shiver at the Pound. Wanting, needing, hungering, possessing. Warily Clive raised up slightly, then when no one yelled at him, he raised to his knees so he could look at the men in front of him. He sat back on his heels, tensed, ready to slam his face back down into the dirt if he needed to appease them.

 

"Yes, Jonah, he has some. But, not enough to be a full Guide for one of us, but perhaps for a Standard Sentinel. Still, it must have helped him be a better doctor." Thierry answered, stepping up beside Clive.

 

"I bet you are wondering why you are here, on your knees in front of my Pride." The smile was compelling, and frightening. Long fangs graced the man’s mouth. He didn’t bother to retract them. He was the Elder Alpha Senior Sentinel of Hendra Pride. Any show of dominance he wanted to display would be accepted as his Right. Clive shivered again, he couldn’t hold the gaze, reflexively he put his face back down and into the grit of the driveway. He fought not to gibber.

 

"Thierry…" The blond Sentinel, Jonah, began, his eyes fixed on Clive and…hungry. Jonah stepped forward, drawn to the crouching figure by something he had not experienced before. But, Thierry raised one dark hand, and the request died unspoken. He was already shaking his head. "Up to your knees, Guide. I want to see your face when I speak to you." He said to Clive, then he spoke to the other Sentinel.

 

"No, Jonah. I know his talent calls to you, the promise of his taste is sublime, but he is not yours. He is Kion’s, and he is mine. Do not interfere." And that quickly Clive realized he had been Claimed by another Sentinel. It seemed so…anticlimactic. He’d not known what to expect when Kion claimed him. It was thrilling. Yet, so very frightening. He had no free will. How had that happened?

 

Just an hour ago he was his own man, he was just going about his usual day, doing his job, his work. Thinking about what direction to take in his next research project. Then, bang, this….. Now it was different. All different. He was Owned. Not by one man, but by two. Guardian Sentinels. Sentinels of the Hendra Pride, rulers, royalty. How did that work? He was terrified. These men could do anything they wished with him. They were, in essence, the law in Saskat as far as it applied to Sentinels and Guides. If they said he was a Guide, then that meant he was subject to them, completely and utterly. If they said he was theirs, then he was. No appealing the decision. No lawyers, no courts, no recourse.


	5. Part 5

Only the King’s Pride held a higher position than the Hendra Pride. And how often would the King interfere with such a minor matter as custody of an unknown, weak Guide? One who had apparently intruded into private Sentinel business, inadvertent as it was, unwilling as it was. Business the Sentinels kept from public knowledge. Business others had died for when they’d discovered it. Clive was sunk, up the creek without a paddle.

 

The implication came through loud and clear. He, a Vet, a specialist in the health and care of Guides, had had no idea of the prevalence of Omega Sentinels. Nor had he any idea of the relationship that existed between an Omega and an Alpha. He still was mostly in the dark, just having had a tiny glimpse of a culture far outside his previous comprehension. But, what he had seen boggled his mind. He was still trying to process the information into a usable framework.

 

Clive clenched his hands to stop the trembling. And himself, a Guide? More impossible to his mind than the existence of Omegas here and now. How could he have been missed in the diagnostic sweeps that occurred every year? He had been scanned more times than he could recall. Once a year until he was six then, per the usual, once every six months until he had been declared adult at 19 and thus unlikely to establish if not already.

 

He’d gone for testing, dutifully taken in by his terrified parents. Though they’d been a little less terrified when his brothers were born, then his sister. If their oldest turned out to be a Guide they would have the other children, they wouldn’t be alone. Well now they’d be glad for his siblings. His parents had probably already received the news from the staff at the Saskat Pound.

 

Year after year the testers reassured his grateful parents he was Mundane, that he carried no mutation. He gone on to study at one of the most prestigious Vet Colleges in the world. He’d been practicing for ten years, since graduating at twenty two. He was well thought of, had given numerous lectures on Guide Medicine. Traveled and even done ground breaking research on Guide abilities and nutrition. Now he was on his knees. Afraid, waiting like a dog,...or a Guide, for instructions. Was there anyway to get away from this? He risked a glance at the faces of the men towering over him. Oh, shit. They scared the hell out of him. Damn the testers for being wrong.

 

He certainly lacked the clout it would take to gainsay ownership of the Hendra Pride. By having even the smallest fraction of measurable talent, enough to be sensed by a Sentinel, he could be Claimed. That was the law. Sure there were some countries where that wasn’t true. In France and Belgium a Guide had to willingly agree to a partnership, and Pounds were not legal, Guides there lived in homes with their birth families until they voluntarily entered a bond.

 

In still other countries Guides had it even worse. He shuddered. Right now the only laws that mattered were the laws of North America. And those laws said he was now property. Subject to the will of the Sentinel who Claimed him. Required to Obey. To Submit. Completely and totally. His body, mind, spirit, his heart. Unconditional love. Like a pet. A seeing eye dog, a service animal. A Guide.

 

He’d witnessed it, the service and life of the Guide, for most of his life, he’d also been a part of the machinery that put Guides into the hands of Sentinels. A respected expert, and researcher. He’d just never expected to be one of them. A Guide. He couldn’t be one of them.

 

It was a mistake. He was a doctor, intelligent, respected. Not a Guide, not one who followed every order, obeyed, served in whatever capacity his owner decreed. Not a possession to be decorated, not a possession to be modified to please…. Clive choked. Oh, Ghod. They could do whatever they wished to him, cut him, mark him, modify him, and he had no right to refuse. He would be drugged, strapped down and altered in any way Kion wanted him to be. He could not stop it. He had no right of refusal.

 

Fighting it was a lost cause. For a fraction of an instant he understood what a Guide must feel like. But most Guides today were raised from infancy to be Guides. Most had never been free, not like he had been. They were prepared all their lives for this. Trained and taught that this was their calling, their destiny. To serve the Sentinels who protected and governed. It was overwhelming. Then Clive forced the thought from his mind, clamped down on his emotions as much as he could. Otherwise, he was going to scream. He was a doctor, not a Guide. He worked at the Pound, he was not a resident there. This was an accident, a punishment, contrived to frighten him into silence, they would eventually let him go. He would be no good as a Guide, much more useful as a doctor. They would see that when they tried to Bond him and failed, if not before that.

 

"Sir?" His voice was tentative. He saw the surprise on every single face of the nearly one dozen men, turned down to look at him. The stunned outrage on a few. Thierry scowled, his face going tight and angry. Offended. He squatted down next to Clive who cringed. He could sense the waves of masculinity, the sheer overwhelming presence of the Sentinel.

 

Thierry slid a hand into Clive’s hair, the doctor felt the claws rake lightly over his scalp. Thierry shook Clive’s head once, gently, making a fist in Clive’s light brown hair. Then he arched Clive’s neck back, staring at the exposed curve of the smaller man’s throat. His eye’s were ravenous, not human when he let Clive look into them. Clive felt a scream gathering in his chest, his hands rose defensively. He pushed away, hands slipping over the man’s bare chest ineffectually, panicking. Thierry still had his fangs fully extended. Then he lifted his burning dark eyes and flicked them in someone else’s direction. Clive heard footsteps drawing nearer. He rolled terror dilated eyes toward the new threat. It was the horned one, the den-Baehr Omega.

 

"Quiet, Guide." Thierry growled, harshly. "Get up and go into the house. Takae-nahl, take your Sentinel’s su'ul in to his rooms, shepherd him. I will take primary Claim on him. I don’t want to see him until he learns better manners, and how to behave in our household."

 

With that, Thierry unthreaded his fearsome fingers from Clive’s hair, rose, turned his back and resumed speaking to his fellow Sentinels. Clive shook, his throat dry. He’d almost wet himself. He still couldn’t move, or stand on his own. He sagged forward, one hand going to the ground trying to hold himself up, the other covering his mouth. His whole body was rocked by tremors, coming in waves.

 

A large, firm hand descended on Clive’s shoulder. He let out a choked off cry, only just stopping the reflexive move to twist away. The hand gentled. "Up, su'ul. Come with me. Do not speak further. It will anger the Alphas."

 

The man, the horned Sentinel, helped him to his feet, supported him as he stumbled, and led Clive inside the huge mansion. It resembled a hotel more than a house. "You must not initiate contact with them until you are known and have a place in the household. Position and placement are very important to Sentinels, especially the Alphas. If you act outside of your position, they will punish you. And you don’t want to risk that. You may cause a dispute over your ownership, and that would be bad for the entire Household. To have then contesting over you."

 

Clive shivered. "May I speak to you?" He whispered, half afraid of a physical blow for his trouble. The Omega was holding him, cradling him against the muscular side, and not for anything did Clive want to lose that support. So what if it wasn’t a manly thing to do. Clive was terrified. His fingers were clutched in the man’s tunic, gone white with the urgency of his grip. He couldn’t let go. Not now when he was so lost.

 

The horned Sentinel looked down at him. There were no fangs in evidence, thank goodness. But Clive knew they were there. All Sentinels had them. The Alphas, the Omegas, even the lowly Betas, the standard Sentinels. And the red eyes. He knew the blood-red eyes were an Omega trait. The eyes that had started the ancient myths of demons and demonic possession. Myths that still were whispered today.

 

"Yes, you may speak to me. And to the Omegas, all of them. We are Omegas, the caretakers of the Guides. We don’t own the Guides. But speak not to the other Guides or to the Alphas. If you have to ask them something, though I can’t think of what at this moment, ask me first, and I will intercede for you. I can tell you ahead of time, don’t ask about being freed. They are Possessive. The Alphas consider you owned, mostly they accept that you are owned by Kion and Thierry, but it is not 100% set in stone yet. They might chose to contest over you, because of your uniqueness. You will not be released, they do not free Guides. They may sell you if you are enough trouble, though I have never heard of the Hendra Pride or it’s branches selling a Guide, but you will never be freed to go back to your Mundane life. You will always be owned by a Sentinel." The huge man lifted Clive to settle him more firmly against his own body. Clive shivered in gratitude, amazed to find his hands still clutching the other’s shirt.

 

"Whatever you do, stay out of the way of the three Senior Sentinels. Thierry, Gregory, and Jonah. If they want to see you they will find you. Jonah plays at being a Junior, but don’t let it fool you, he is Senior. That little display with Thierry, well don’t read too much into it. He was just making Thierry state his Claim out loud. Jonah is not dumb, though for some insane reason he likes to play it that way. Kion, Nathaniel and Sebastian are the Juniors. They are less easily affronted, but also more likely to lose control in any given situation. Jonah is way, way Senior, not a new one. He has control. But he likes to play. He won’t hurt you if you behave. If you misbehave he will discipline you faster than any of the others, harder and more harshly." Bizarre to hear that statement in relation to himself. He’d always encouraged seminars for even experienced Sentinels, trying to educate them on good and humane care of their Guides. Now he hoped someone had done the same thing for the Sentinels of the Hendra Pride. If not it was too damn late for him to benefit.

 

"Thierry and Gregory are very traditional, Thierry in fact is very old school, back to the old ways, beyond traditional. Much of the History of the Sentinels is passed down from memory, an oral history. Very little is written down. It is a way to keep the secret things from those who should not know it. Kion and Nathaniel are much the same as their Seniors. Sebastian is Jonah’s Junior, and they are as alike as two peas in a pod. Sebastian won’t hurt you, but he will want to toy with you, to take your measure. Thierry and Gregory, well they dislike the modern changes, they discourage it in the Household. Body modifications, surgeries. Only the old decorations, they old ways of marking the Guide is acceptable. They believe the Guide sleeps with a Sentinel always, as per ancient custom. Jonah prefers his Guides to sleep together and he joins them if he wishes. He is a little more liberal than Gregory or Thierry."

 

"The Omegas will shepherd the Guides, as it always has been, sleep with them, care for them, defend them, as well as back up the Alphas. All the Omegas have permission to touch the Guides. You will not object to that." Takae-nahl was stern as he said this, his arm hard around Clive.

 

"But if the Alphas who have not stated a Claim on you touch you, it is a direct challenge of Ownership, and that is not good. Thierry is the head of the Household. He is not contested for that, but it is the nature of the Alpha Guardians to test each other, and to infiltrate each other’s position if it is possible to do so. They will fight over a Guide, however civilized they seem. They are Guardian Alphas. They are not Standard Sentinels, whatever you think you know of Sentinels, does not apply to them, to predicting their behavior, so you will do whatever you need to do to stay out of their way. For the purposes of your position, you will act like a Guide, despite your lower talent. Being a doctor, well I think eventually that will earn you more freedom of movement in the Household. Just not yet. Do not push it. Do not wander the house without one of us, the Omegas, with you. Each Sentinel has a section of the house that is theirs, in the sections that belong to Thierry and Kion, you may have free range, except for any intrusion into the company of the Alphas. Thierry will let you know when you can move around more without causing a problem." Takae-nahl regarded him thoughtfully.

 

"All the other Guides came into the Household already Bonded, or with a clear tie, or pre-Bond in place. You did not. Your presence is disruptive. Thierry will have to try to establish a preliminary tie to you in order to Bond with you. If the other Alphas give him no interference it should be easily done. If you tempt the others by being in the wrong place, things may become difficult. It is not unknown for Guides to be harmed or killed when Bondings are done in the course of a contested Bond." The den-Baehr said. Clive understood enough of the Bond to be surprised that he wasn’t already Bonded.

 

"Wait. Wait. Not Bonded? Why not? I thought it was impossible to be Claimed if the Guide was not Bonded. If I am not Bonded, why am I here?" Clive exclaimed. He drew back a little, but was unable to make himself let go of the big Sentinel. Oh Ghod, he was so weak! This man had implied he would protect him. Clive had to rely on that until there were other alternatives.

 

"You are Claimed. Yes. But the pathways are not opened between you and your Sentinels. In order to Bond they must be coaxed open, that has not yet happened. Being Claimed is analogous to being engaged, fully and formally in the old sense, it is breakable, but at a cost. When the pathways are opened then you will be Bonded, and there will no longer be a struggle over your place with us." Takae-nahl stroked a hand down the side of the slim man leaning against him.


	6. Part 6

"But, I don’t…." Seeing the implacable expression, Clive let his protest peter out. He bowed his head. What was the use? He’d already been told more than he’d expected. Getting the information would take a while, he'd have to piece it together over time. Until then, he had to be patient and survive this…Bonding. He would get out of this untenable situation in the future.

 

"You won’t be sleeping alone here. That doesn’t necessarily mean sex. But, it means you will have to accept whatever your Alpha decides, and whichever Omega is in your bed. Don’t fight, you won’t win, and you might be hurt. Kion is mostly heterosexual, I don’t think he will want to sleep with you, or to have sex with you, not with his new Match joining him. He likely will keep the Guide away from everyone but myself and Thaen for a time. Thierry is bisexual, and he likes physical contact with his Omegas and with his Guides. He believes in it, believes it is right, and necessary for the health of the Guide as well as the Sentinel. It does not matter what your own preference is. You will accept the decision of the Saer. You are educated in the ways of Bonding, you know it is instinct that drives them. They do have some control. But, if they are challenged, all bets are off. Don’t challenge them. If one of the other Alphas catches you, obey him. Don’t provoke him, don't refuse him, one of us will usually be near and we will try very hard to help you. It is in our interests our Alphas don’t fight amongst each other, especially not over Guides."

 

"Shit." Clive whispered. "Oh, Ghods. I…I can’t…I have never…I mean I don’t…." How many times had he known the Guides were going to be used sexually? How many times had he let it happen, as if they were simply doing what was legal? As if the feelings of the Guides were irrelevant. How many times had he said to himself and out loud, "Guide sex is not real sex, it is Bonding…"? Now here was the payback in spades. Because, Thierry terrified him, and Clive had no legal standing to refuse him anything. If Thierry took him that way…Clive was sure he’d be injured terribly, or killed. "No, no, no…."

 

"Shhhh. Damn." Takae-nahl scooped the slight man all the way up in his arms, cradling him gently. Crooning to the smaller male. "It’s the way of the Sentinels, su'ul. Accept it. You can’t control it. There is peace in acceptance. In submitting to their will. It is natures way."

 

Clive was nodding, as if he were listening, and understanding, but suddenly, in his mind, he was hearing the list of modifications he’d offered to perform on Kion’s new Guide. The list was running over and over through his frightened mind. His stomach churned. He thought Kion wouldn’t permit those things to be done to him, any more than he’d wanted them done to his Matched Guide, he’d heard the Junior Sentinel’s preferences, but Thierry was a whole new nightmare. He could well believe the man would have him modified, docked, whatever. Despite what Takae-nahl had said.

 

"Wh…what will he do to me?" Clive asked tremulously. Not caring that tears were running down his face. He was too damned scared to care. Takae-nahl brushed a thumb through the track of salty moisture along Clive’s cheek. The Omega’s face was calm, untouched. He licked the tears from his thumb. His nostrils flared, and his crimson eyes darkened.

 

"You mean Thierry. Thierry has plenty of Guides to keep himself busy. He has taken a fancy to you, but he recognizes Kion’s prior Claim, that much is clear. If he didn’t you’d be on your knees in front of him still, or already in his bed. He is granting Kion a lot of respect, more than is required. He will give Kion a little time in case he decides he wants you first, then when he does not, Thierry will make sure you are taken care of. Kion won’t be interested in much besides his new Guide for a while. Thierry will chose one of his Omegas to care for you, so you will belong to both Thierry through his Omega, and to Kion through me."

 

Clive shuddered, his body rebelling at the glimpse of his future. Sentinels around him, and he had to avoid some of the others for his own safety. "The bathroom, please, now." He moaned as he realized he was about to lose everything he’d eaten today. Takae-nahl swept him down the hall.

 

 

Thierry entered the sleeping room. If one of the other Sentinels had asked him what he was doing here, he would not have had a ready answer. He was in all honesty pursuing a Guide who should not have had the ability to draw his attention at all. He had left his other Guides to follow this one. Foolish. He had certainly not expected to want to spend time with the weak Guide Clive so soon. He was allowing the pathways between them to ease open gradually instead of forcing a faster Bond. But, he found he was thinking of the Guide often, wanting to scent him, wanting to nip at the Guide's throat, lap at the scent glands there, in fact he was too distracted. The Guide’s scent was unusual, tempting, making Thierry think of tasting him, biting him, sinking into him, melding their bodies and minds. His feet brought him to this room while he was drifting off in thought.

 

He knew the Guide doctor was here, he had listened to the Guide’s heartbeat as he’d stolen away from the group in Kion’s rooms, wanting to sleep alone. More often than not, the doctor had waited until the others were asleep then left the sleeping group. He’d told the Omegas to let the Guide go, but to watch him, to keep him safe. To keep the other Alphas from unexpectedly stumbling over him and finding temptation through no fault of their own. Clive was Claimed, and Marked, but only superficially, and Alpha Sentinels could take over superficially Claimed Guides with ease. Thierry was not about to let the Guide, any Guide, cause a rift in the Household he headed.

 

It was obvious the man, Clive, was not raised to accept closeness like the Guides normally wanted. Clive, in contrast to the bred Guides, craved privacy. He avoided the Alphas almost as if he was psychic and could predict where they’d be. That was a trait Thierry was quick to encourage. He did not want to fight with Gregory, or more likely Jonah, over his errant half-Claimed Guide.

 

Kion was asleep in a room far down the hall, curled up among his two Omegas and his new Guide. That meant for the first time in three days, Clive was free to sneak off and sleep elsewhere. Somehow he’d managed to creep away without waking Takae-nahl, a thing Thierry would have thought impossible. But, he was alone, and that gave Thierry time to start the training he preferred on the new doctor, the Guide that was to be his. Kion didn’t want full Claim he’d made that clear.

 

Clive. An acceptable name. Thierry rolled it around on his tongue. Yes, he liked it. A European name, not an exotic one. A Mundane name, not a Guide name. Thierry smiled, this Guide was going to be different, a challenge. That caught his interest. The man was intelligent, sharp, and not at all submissive. Yet, he knew enough not to get himself in a dangerous situation by openly defying Thierry. He was proving masterful at not being noticed, staying in the background.

 

Thierry entered the large room. He had supervised the design of the mansion, hanging over the shoulder of the architect as plans were drafted. He hated small spaces, so everything was wide open, airy. On the one large bed in the center of the room was curled a sleepy but very much awake figure gone eerily still, like a rabbit hiding from a fox. The other new Guide, Clive. Thierry thought to himself he was going to have to assign one of his own Omegas to the Guide. Takae-nahl was being distracted by the power of the True Match Bonding between Kismet, Kion, Thaen and himself. He could not be expected to keep Clive as safe as if he was without the new ties.

 

The doctor was trying to lie still, and in so doing to escape notice. Thierry smiled, his Sentinel vision able to see the slender lines of the Guide’s body in the dim illumination as if the overhead light was on full. It wasn’t going to work this time, there was no time left for him to hide, the doctor needed to learn to fit in. Thierry had already allowed the su'ul time to acclimate to his surroundings, to get used to the constant company of others, strangers to the new Guide, get used to not being allowed to be alone. Now it was time to get him used to his position in the house.

 

Thierry slid in under the blankets, moving to Clive’s side without any hesitation, pressing close. The smaller male stiffened, radiating fear, smelling of it, but it was not enough to overwhelm the elusive, maddening scent that was him, Clive-scent. That didn’t stop him from trying to move away, but instinctively Clive knew that moving away from the other man was not a good idea. He fought even harder against the instinct that told him to move closer, to throw his arms around the Alpha. The instinct to ask for protection, request it as Guide to Sentinel. The instinctual responses were growing stronger.

 

Thierry looped an arm around the slender body, drawing the Guide close. "Listen to me, su'ul. I am a Sentinel, I am your Sentinel, I have taken Primary Claim. Kion is now your Secondary Sentinel. It is my place to care for you, to Own you. A Guide, which is what you are, whether strong or weak, can not survive on his own. You need me, and I will care for you. It is your place to submit to me, and offer me the comfort of your mind and your body. Nature has made it so."

 

The small man started to shake at that. Which was not a surprise. Very gently Thierry petted the rigid arms and legs, willed the younger man to accept the warmth and succor of his body as he pressed them close. He kept his tone low and soothing, but never the less, commanding. It was high time the Guide listened and obeyed. Thierry stroked his fingers over the collection of glands at the Guide's low back, stimulating the sacral plexus, careful not to overstimulate him. He scented the low level release of pheromones. Perfect. Clive began to relax.

 

"I will teach you submission of your body first, then of your mind, and finally of your heart. It takes many years to learn it the way I teach it. You will live it all the way down to your cells. It will be instinct. You will know it is right for you." He pulled Clive over to lay atop him. Running strong hands up and down Clive’s back and hips. "Relax, let your legs fall open and around me. I prefer your body to be open to me whenever I touch you, whenever I am near. I like to feel that you are not holding any part of yourself closed against me. It is both symbolic of our joining and a message to others. I am not closed to you. After we are Bonded, there is no time you will be forbidden from my company. My Mark on you will keep you safe. I will never fail to protect you."

 

Clive finally found himself laying face down on top of the Sentinel, his legs sprawled around the other’s torso. The hand that was touching his lower back was sending unexpected shivers throughout his entire body. Waves of them. He knew what was happening. Guides had hormone glands, Terishaki Glands, in several areas of the body. The throat extending all around the neck and up to the ears, the sacral collection, more behind the knees, and the arch of the foot. In Vet school, Clive and his classmates, had witnessed on film, a Guide taken to orgasm by a Sentinel stimulating only the Guide's feet. The problem was, *he* shouldn't have the glands. He shouldn't, as a Mundane, be reacting like this at all.

 

He wanted to look into the other man’s eyes, but it was too dark. He was alone with an Alpha Sentinel. One of two who had laid Claim to him. He had not been alone with one of them before, always there had been one or more of the Omegas around. Usually Takae-nahl or Thierry’s Omega, Bey. Thierry was the more frightening of the two Alphas. Naturally, it was just his damnable luck.

 

He wasn’t comfortable. The man, the Alpha Sentinel, so much larger than he was. The muscles of his chest were huge, and Clive could actually feel the six pack abs through his sleep shirt. They were that defined, that impressive. Thierry’s hand stroked down his back. Not lingering anywhere now, just long smooth strokes that were working to calm Clive despite himself. Touches that keep him from screaming and struggling to get free. Kept him from fighting to close his legs and squirm away. Because, he did not like how it felt to lay on top of another man so intimately. It felt too good.

 

"This is good, su'ul. Relax. Tell me about the Bond. Your view, what you know of it. I have never heard a doctor’s view on it." Thierry whispered softly against Clive’s hair. Clive noticed how the other man smelled, faintly musky, definitely male. Intoxicating. Damn, where had that come from? Not from his own heterosexual brain surely.

 

It was an appealing scent, and one that could not just be ignored. Each breath drew more of the scent into Clive’s lungs, deep into his body, and his body seemed to recognize and acknowledge the scent in some primitive part of his brain. And it felt like it was coursing slowly, inevitably through his entire body. Like a drug, one that is meant to be inhaled, one he is programmed to respond to. Clive forced himself to concentrate on the request from the Senior Sentinel to talk, about Guides. Sentinels. Bonding. He licked his lips and began.

 

"It is genetic, the Bonding. Just like being Mundane, Sentinel or Guide. Strength of talent among Guides is determined by both genetics and by training. Certain genetic patterns meld better than others, how closely they meld is called Matching. The remarkable thing about Sentinel-Guide genetics is that they actually exchange and absorb genetic material from each other, the longer they are together, the more they meld. At least that is true for close Matches. It doesn’t affect the reproductive cells, just the cells in the rest of the body. Most Sentinels don’t wait for a full Match. Which is too bad. If the genetics are too far off, the genetic material can’t be assimilated between them. The attachment sites on the cell membranes aren’t compatible, and the DNA can’t gain entry into the cell or the cell nucleus. The poorly Matched don’t actually merge, like an ideal pair would. Like they are meant to. It goes against nature to accept partial Matches. But the other side of the argument, which I am sure you see clearly, is that to wait too long for a Match is hard on the Sentinel. Using temporary Guides is time consuming and not always successful. There are more Sentinels than there are Guides. So Sentinels accept partial Bonds. And trade Guides when a better Match comes along. It really is a waste for that to happen. And putting a Guide down, while legal, is suicidal for a society so dominated by Sentinels. Guides get selected too young, they never have a chance to grow up, mature properly. It’s helped some when the age laws went into effect, seventeen is better than seven of course, but seventeen is still too young." Clive slowed down, uncertain how Thierry was taking his explanation. How the Sentinel would react. He tried to judge by the feel of the body under his. Thierry was laying quietly, petting him. It felt good, so, so good. Clive didn’t want it to feel that way. He heard Thierry’s voice and felt it against his cheek where he was pressed to the other man’s chest.

 

"Don’t be afraid of me. I will always expect and respect the truth when you speak to me. The Omegas may try to tell you to watch your words around me, but believe me, you won’t need to as long as you speak the truth. My word on it. The rules of behavior I had the Omegas teach you are for your safety. They are important, imperative. I never meant that you could not come to me, talk with me. And I, in turn, will always speak the truth to you. I promise that to you, even when it is not what you want to hear."

 

Thierry rubbed his chin against the Guide’s hair. Nice hair, not the color, that was pretty average, but it was silky and thick, straight. He wondered if it would be attractive long. He liked his Guides to have long hair, have it put up in elaborate coiffures with traditional pins and clips. He liked to run his hands through yards of living silk. Clive’s hair was very different as short as it was. Less of a focus. Thierry found himself more aware of the rest of the man, his skin, his voice, the scent of him. He’d never been this enraptured by the smell of a Guide before. It was another unique thing about this Guide. Another reason he wanted him.


	7. Part 7

"What do you know about Omegas? Their role in the Bond?" Thierry asked after a moments silence, after scenting the man a while longer. In a moment he was going to let himself taste the man’s skin, lick along his throat. His fangs slid out in anticipation, he pulled back before his instinct to bite got the better of him. But, not quite yet. Clive was speaking, stumbling over his words in nervous haste.

 

"Almost nothing. In the Vet school we spent less than one hour on the Omegas. That was all the information they had to give us. I haven’t been able to find out much more since graduating, either. Some of my colleagues actually suggested that Omegas were a myth. Or extinct. Precursors to today’s modern sentinels who had died out, been replaced. Like the Neanderthals. Every thing seems secret. When I realized how many Omegas you have here... And what they do for you, or what I have been allowed to learn that they do. Or think they do. Tak said some things…." Clive stumbled to a stop, shrugged, relaxing by fractions. This was a topic he was very interested in, perhaps he could learn something more from Thierry.

 

"The Omegas are Sentinels who serve Alpha/Guardian Sentinels. They were the first Sentinels, that is true. Their role today is to enhance the Guardian’s coping and Bonding with Guides or without Guides. They serve us, anchor us. And in turn we allow them to experience a different level of Bond. Most the Omegas are mutated to the degree that they need us to facilitate a Bond for them. They are capable of a weak Bond with Guides, one which you have felt, but with an Alpha Guardian Sentinel, they have the most powerful Bond imaginable. Our Bonds to our Guides are not as strong as our Bonds to our Omegas." Thierry waited for the Guide’s response, knowing the doctor would have some kind of reaction.

 

"You Bond with the Omegas? And it is more powerful that with Guides? Why do you need Guides then?" Clive exclaimed sitting part way upright. Thierry pulled him back down before answering, rearranging Clive’s body so once again the smaller man’s legs were wrapped around his body. He liked that, the feel of the small body open on top of him. Clive felt his traitorous body flush. Thierry’s fingers were stroking his perineum through his pajamas. Clive shivered with each gentle stroke.

 

"Yes. True Bond. You will experience it with us some day soon. The Omegas are very physical, very alpha male in a way that goes far beyond the Alpha Sentinels. They are primal, primitive, instinctual Sentinels. All the terms that are used by the common public to describe Alpha Sentinels are much more accurate describing the Omega Sentinels. They are our primal source, and we honor them. The first Sentinels were Omegas. Then the Beta Sentinels developed, with a greater ability to control their senses through a more complete Bonding with their Guides. Then Alpha Sentinels. And finally the Alpha/Guardian Sentinels. The first Alpha/Guardian was documented in the record less than four thousand years ago. Most people know that Alpha Sentinels are Bonding specialists. That their control of their senses is expert. But most don’t know that there is one more step above the Alpha. The Alpha/Guardian. The Alpha Guardian is thought by most Mundane to be an Alpha. But we are significantly more. There is no one we can’t Bond with if we need to. Guide, Sentinel, or Mundane. Even complete Nulls. Our preferred Bonds are Omegas who strengthen us, then Guides who balance us. Bet you didn’t know that." Thierry was patting Clive gently on the small of his back, the other hand was still lower, fingers still playing very intimate games between Clive’s legs, cupping his genitals.

 

 

Clive was stunned. He tried to think, to ask a question. Tried to wrap his mind around what he’d just learned. Tried to separate what was happening to his body from his mind and the many questions he wanted to ask. He trembled, the touch was good, too good, and he told himself it shouldn't be, he was not *that* way. The touch should leave him unmoved.

 

"Yes, that is the usual reaction. There are many things for you to discover in the Hendra Pride, doctor. I can safely say you won’t be bored. All of my Pride Brothers are Alpha/Guardians, the juniors as well as the seniors. Most standard Sentinels want to form one perfect Bond. We don’t, our drive is to form as many perfect Bonds as we are able to. Our drive is to Own many, to Claim many, to Mark many. I have three Omegas and with you three Guides. And I am hungry for them all. You asked why do we keep Guides? Guides are a focus a balancing force, and they also provide pleasure as well as grounding. We crave Guides, desire them in a way that we don’t crave Omegas. You may argue that given the stronger Bond with the Omegas we should want them more, but Nature has seen fit that the Sentinel desires the Guide."

 

"Will you have me modified?" Clive blurted the words out, not even knowing what he was going to say until he said it. He clamped his mouth shut to prevent his teeth from chattering. It was one of the many fears he had, that he would wake up in a body he didn’t know or recognize.

 

"Do you wish it?" Thierry asked him. "Is there a secret fantasy you have? A modification you have always wanted but feared to ask for? Something you did to another Guide that you want me to have done to you?"

 

"No!" Clive exclaimed. "No, I…" He flushed.

 

"OK. Let’s talk about his. I like my men to be male. So, I don’t like the docking-genital modifications. When I wish to mate with a female, I want a true female not a docked male. And yes, I view Guides as male and female despite the popular drivel that Guide-sex is not really sex. Bullshit. It is sex. It is Bonding. And it is sex. I like hair on my Guides, just as nature intended, where nature intended. I am not going to try to make you into a girl-boy, you are a man, an adult, and that pleases me. I understand that some other Sentinels feel differently. I do not. So put that worry out of your mind. I do like earrings and some jewelry. Tattoos, yes. But tastefully done. You need your fingers and toes, and I will never take them from you. And no one is going to stop you from speaking by latching your teeth. Not in my Pride. Feel better now?" Thierry hugged the smaller man to him. Clive melted into the embrace, limp with relief.

 

"Yes." Clive hesitated. "Would you like me to have my ears pierced?"

 

"Your ears, your nipples, your penis. Whichever you are comfortable with. That will only enhance your attractiveness. Kion is not normally attracted to men. But, he took you. Normally he would not do that. It is his right, but he is usually careful not to infringe on others. That speaks to something between the two of you. I believe you have an appeal connected with your scent. Some Match wouldn’t you say? Still, I think he will allow me to make the decisions for the three of us."

 

"I… I am not sure I can have my penis pierced. The idea…" Clive swallowed hard, noticing Thierry was watching him closely. He ducked his head down. "How…How is this going to work, Sir?" Clive murmured, very aware of the big hands smoothing down over his rump. The touch was aware, sensual, but not sexual any more. It was possessive, but not invasive. "Are you…Am I…?"

 

"Are we going to have sex, you and I? You and Kion?" Thierry rubbed soothing circles across Clive’s back, and the smaller man found himself melting into the touch, albeit, a little unwillingly. He nodded, afraid to speak aloud, afraid his voice would tremble. Thierry answered him.

 

"Yes. We will have sex, when the time is right. Kion? As I said he doesn’t find males all that attractive. His Guide, Kismet, that is different, their Match is so close Kion won’t be able not to bed him. Kismet calls to him from a level so basic, so deep it is impossible not to respond, even though Kion is the most heterosexual of men. With me? When I was young I took mostly women to my bed. I fathered a dozen children. I love them all. But I am seventy-six years old now. My desires have changed a little, I will live the next half of my life not worrying about fathering children, passing on my genes. I will take only those I wish to my bed. I find you tempting, I feel the Bond beginning between us. It will grow. You will also feel it, if you can’t feel it already. The Bond can’t be fought, you will understand that. When the Bond is sufficient, you will want to come to me."

 

"But I am not a Guide, not really. I am not strong enough. And I am not gay, or even bisexual." Clive protested. "I don’t think I will be able to come to you for something like that. I don’t want sex with a man, I have never wanted anal sex with anyone, not even with women. I know I don’t want to be on the receiving end of it." He shivered.

 

"Not in the past. I accept that, but you will be with me. You will see. Being with me will bring out your talent. You know that, the talk of genetics, well this is the reality of that science. The more time we spend together, the stronger your talent will become. The stronger our need for each other will be, and eventually you will not remember that you ever didn’t want me. You will desire to feel me deep in your body. You will know I belong there. Guides are different from sentinels. It is how the rumors of Guide sex not being sex come into being. Sentinels do have sexual preferences that affect them in Bonding. Guides are different in that they Bond to the Sentinel, not to the gender of the Sentinel. You will think me arrogant and incorrect from the view point you have now. But I challenge you to watch and learn. I learned this from watching Guides, mine own and others. And I tell you now, that for a Guide the sex of his or her Sentinel is irrelevant. You will see that in time." Thierry ran his fingers through Clive’s short hair. Clive was floored. He wanted to argue, but he had no way of proving Thierry was wrong. No wealth of data to refute the Sentinels assertion.

 

"Don’t worry, I have other Guides, and my Omegas. I won’t need you immediately. But, ty’lyr, you do need to remember, I am a Sentinel. You do need to obey me in those times I order you or instruct you. I won’t allow disrespect, I will listen to you if you have concerns, but I won’t tolerate outright rebellion or tantrums. And I did mean it when I told you I wanted you to open yourself to me. When we are together, I want you to follow my lead. If I hold you, or touch you, don’t hide yourself. Do you understand that? Our bodies will know each other, we will be joined and as one. I want that to show."

 

He said it with certainty, like it was a fact, it could not be avoided, they would, in the future, sometime, someday, sleep together, have sex. Clive tried to be afraid, and he was, but not like he had been. Thierry was going to let him talk about it. That was more than he thought he’d be allowed to do. Knowing what the future held, it was comforting in an odd way, even if the activity was not something he wanted.


	8. Part 8

Clive's POV

 

I woke when he did. I felt him shifting in the bed and knew who it was without turning. Less than a week and I recognized his touch, his scent. Very twilight zone. I wasn’t in the habit of sleeping with anyone every night, man or woman before I came here. Now, I had woken three days in a row with Thierry’s large, bronze skinned body spooned around me. And I was becoming accustomed to it.

 

I looked at the hand that was in front of me. My own hand, laying on top of the covers. With a new bright gold ring on my ring finger, the crest of the Hendra Pride incised on it in precise, delicate cuts. My other hand wore a similar ring, I was rubbing it with my thumb, confirming it was there, that I wasn’t imagining it. It was there. Also on the ring finger. As heterosexual as hell, I now wore the rings of two different men. Sentinels. Worse, Alpha/Guardian Sentinels. Who both Claimed me as their Guide. And that complication was the crux of everything. The reason my life was becoming so very different than it had been, than I thought it would be. ‘Cause my imagination had certainly failed me on this one. I’d never come close to the reality I was living now.

 

Each man had numerous lovers, numerous others who wore their rings. But they took the rings and the commitment inherent in the symbols very seriously. I, a Guide, would have no other lovers, none that I chose for myself, and if I knew what was good for me I wouldn’t be caught even thinking about anyone else. If I strayed I would be punished, severely. If another tried to take me or to harm me, that person would be killed. I belonged to them, these two Alpha Sentinels. Thierry and Kion. To the Hendra Pride. In this world I was their property. Insane, inhumane, but absolutely true. As a Vet, I had perpetuated this bizarre arrangement for hundreds of Guides. I hadn’t really understood what I was doing until it happened to me. Until I was the one who was declared property, with all the rights of a table or chair. No longer a person. No longer independent.

 

Sex? No. Not with either of them, not really, not yet. Well….Sort of, maybe? But, knowing human nature, it would happen for real, unquestionable sex. Well, maybe not with Kion, but with Thierry? Yes. I think so. My other choice was to be celibate for the rest of my life. Not really up to me. I know, I know, priests do it. But, I am not a priest or a monk, or a holy man of any kind. I don’t have a spiritual calling to be celibate, nor a medical reason keeping me from engaging in sex. It is easy to say, well if there are no women then of course I won’t have sex. After all I am not into men, I am preferentially heterosexual, always have been. But, it isn’t that easy after all. I was finding this out a lot faster than I expected. Men in prison, even heterosexual men, engage in homosexual sex. I was sort of a prisoner, wasn’t I? It seemed a lame excuse. I was simply horny.

 

I can argue that I am not attracted to men, meaning Mundane men. Sure. I’d also been around Sentinels one way or another for all of my life. And none of them made me rethink my orientation. Not until I met an Alpha/Guardian Sentinel. Not until he told me I was a Guide, and that I was Owned. Thus taking away my freedom and my rights as a citizen. Did I find Kion attractive, yes, damn it. But that was nothing compared to the way I recognized I felt about Thierry. I lusted after him. I wanted him in the worst way. Wanting Thierry scared me. And I slept with him, every night for a week and we hadn’t had sex. Would I have sex with him? Yes, when I got over being so terrified and admitted to myself, and to him, I was ready and hot for it. Or when he got tired of waiting.

 

I have had one long term lover in my life. A woman, Rebecca Collins. We went through Vet College together, graduated and worked together for the first few years after wards. Two years ago she had taken a job on the east coast, and just that quickly was no longer a part of my everyday life. During the slightly more than two years since, I had dated a few women. But none of them became serious, one was a teacher, one a secretary, neither found my work in Guide Vet Medicine interesting.

 

I certainly had never dated a man. I had not even one fantasy that put me in bed with a man. I had never kissed a man, not even my father or my uncles. The kisses Thierry and the Omegas gave me were on the cheek, on the forehead, soothing kisses, not passionate ones. I never kissed them that way, you had to know them to understand why. I couldn’t get over the hurdle, couldn’t accept I could kiss them. That it was allowed. They would permit me. That it was OK.

 

I must be one of the few men who didn’t experiment with his male buddies when I was a kid. I was so focused on school, getting into Vet Medicine was harder than getting into any other discipline, I never thought about sex. I didn’t have the time. I lost my virginity in college. To Rebecca, the one love of my life. She who was now more than 3000 miles away from me. We kept in touch through the comm, never the phone, always the email, we had both instinctively known it would be too painful to hear each other’s voice. I still had no idea why she had suddenly left. She had offered no explanation. I had known not to ask. We were still friends, sort of.

 

Around half a month back I was working at the Saskat Pound, I was a Guide Vet. Respected, and good at what I did. Then I had the fortune/misfortune to see an interaction between two Sentinels. It would not have been that big a deal, but one of the Sentinels was an Omega Sentinel. Rare and almost undocumented in the literature. The other Sentinel was an Alpha/Guardian Sentinel. Less rare, but just as fascinating. My being witness to their interaction meant I had offered offense to the Alpha/Guardian, I wasn’t clear how. He had two options. One to kill me, the other was to Claim me. He Claimed me. Within two days I was legally declared a Guide, and was Owned, lock stock and barrel, as the old saying goes. Everything I had was theirs. Including my person.

 

Guides can not own property. Guides are property. A table can’t own a house. Or a chair a table no matter how well matched they may be. That kind of logic. So, once declared a Guide, I was out of options. I could not fight the declaration. The word of the Elder Senior Guardian Sentinel of the Hendra Pride took precedence over any evidence I could have produced, even decades of genetic testing all through my life before I was an adult.

 

I’d gone through it, just as all children did. And as an Alpha/Guardian he could Bond to me and show proof to the Tribunal of an actual Bond. Thierry had told me he could Bond to even a Null, or a Mundane. Then he’d proved it by Bonding to me, despite my minuscule talent. I know it was Bond. I felt it. I felt him sink into me, into the depths of my mind. He Owned me in the eyes of the law, and it was documented by the biochemistry of my body.

 

Thierry let me work, I went to the Pound, and treated Guides for illness, but I no longer conducted interviews with the Sentinel Owners come to collect their Guides. I was a Guide after all, so for me to talk to them as an equal, it was an insult. As well as the furor that would erupt if even an unsubstantiated rumor came to my Sentinels’ attention that a strange Sentinel had touched me. Or bumped into me, or thought about touching me, or…well you get the idea.

 

But, since I did get to work, I kept my complaints to a minimum, and just did what I could. It was also a relief not to be sending new Guides to their Sentinels. Now that I was one of those Guides, I didn't feel so benign about what I had done. Best not to rock the boat when the sailing is smooth. I also saw to the care of the other Guides in the house of the Hendra Pride. Two were older, and not as healthy as they could have been. I was working on that.

 

The first day back was hard. No one wanted me there. They took one look at my Bonding rings, at my ears pierced with more Bonding rings….and well they didn’t want me there. I was trouble, I frightened them, and the Pound was a place of high emotion, ripe for trouble to explode. I was one more factor they had to monitor. One more worry. They set me to work in a back room handling files.

 

Thierry, being very politically savvy, anticipated the reaction and came with me the second day, after giving the Pound Administration the first day to get it right. He’d listened to the report of the Omega he’d told to attend me, and smiled, kissing the top of my head, which I both liked and hated. He made me feel like a well loved child. As if he indulged me, spoiled me. And that was the reason for both emotions. I liked being loved, and I hated being treated like a child. The reality was, however, that in the eyes of the law I had less rights than a child. Less rights than any Mundane, I was the human equivalent of a pet. Sometimes it took a lot of willpower not to grind my teeth down to the gum line

 

The Saskat Pound went deadly quiet when the well known figure of the Elder Senior Guardian Sentinel of the ruling local Pride entered the premises. He had made a great show of his courtly manners, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, except that he kept his fangs fully extended, and his claws unsheathed, and his prehensile tail was very much in evidence, lashing back and forth. In direct opposition to his otherwise exquisite manners. Being he outranked every one in North America but the King and the two highest ranking Sentinel members of the King’s Pride, no one objected to his blatant display of fang, tail and claw.

 

He stated that it was his wish that I work, and keep fully up to date with Guide Medicine. He kissed me gently tilting up my chin with the tips of his fingers, claws withdrawn for that act. On the mouth, the first time he’d done that. In fact he had not done it since, in public or in private.

 

He left the Pound then, leaving his Omega Second Sentinel, Finn, with me. Though I was the only one in the Pound who knew Finn was an Omega Sentinel. He was not den-Baehr, so there was no outward sign. Of course everyone marveled that Thierry had left me in the care of another Sentinel. Oh, yes, they wondered over that.

 

The exam room that just yesterday was impossible to obtain, was immediately available. It was Finn’s idea to place a large patch on my lab coat, the Crest of the Hendra Pride. I got no further objections once the patch was on and in plain view. No Sentinel would dare voice doubts as to my right to touch and treat their Guides with the patch in place. I had to wear a collar, but Kion had selected one that wasn’t overly intrusive or excessively bulky, it was a thin gold band that broadened slightly in the front to allow for the depiction of the Hendra Crest.

 

I stayed on one side of the exam table with Finn behind me, and the other Sentinels stayed on the opposite side. Never taking the chance we’d bump into each other, the strange Sentinels and I. The last thing I wanted was to see Finn in action defending me because I’d done something stupid or clumsy. He was deadly, I’d watched them spar, the Sentinels of my house. I never wanted to see it for real.

 

Today, I did not have to go to work. Today I was going to accompany Thierry on his rounds. For the first time. I was on edge, and yet, eager to see just what his day consisted of. My thoughts were interrupted by Thierry lifting me on top of his body. My legs did what had been drilled into me, they opened to allow him to press intimately against me. I was still self-conscious doing it, and I always wore pajama bottoms to bed. I wasn’t ready for his bare skin against my bare skin, not down there anyway.

 

Thierry insisted on this positioning, that all of his Guides be open to him at all times, that we all be very public about our submission. It no longer made me precisely uncomfortable, I was becoming used to it, more like I felt exposed. Second nature and all that. It didn’t leave me with any veneer of independence.

 

This time when I opened my legs, I managed to catch the new piercings on something, and I gasped. The pain was sharp, immediate, intense. Thierry had said they should be left to heal naturally, that I should remember what it meant every time I felt the twinge of pain that reminded me just where these particular piercings were, through the glans of my penis, and behind my testicles.

 

The rings were gold, and very simple, thick, heavy and eye catching, I was horrified and yet fascinated by them. I had not planned on getting them. Thierry had said whatever I was comfortable with, and having my penis pierced was not on my list of comfortable activities. But when he called the Vet in, and told her what piercings to do, raising his brow at me, I said nothing, I made no protest. My silence was taken as consent, which it was, a passive consent. It was as if my tongue was glued to the top of my mouth. I trembled, especially when Thierry and Kion sat to watch the procedure. Especially when Thierry said no to anesthesia, explaining I should remember this ceremony.

 

It hurt, I can’t tell you how much. But for the first time since my Claiming two weeks previous, I got an erection. As soon as the Vet swabbed my ears, I was so hard it hurt. Thierry stood as soon as he saw that, while I lay still, humiliated by my body’s betrayal, pushed the Vet aside, rather gently for a Sentinel who was seeing his Guide aroused with, essentially, a stranger in the room. A stranger who was touching said Guide. So what if the Vet was Mundane and thus not a true threat.

 

"Tell me what to do." He rumbled at the Vet. She stepped way back, up against the wall, hands up in an effort at placating him, and probably wanted to get further away than that, but she talked him through the procedure of piercing my ears, the needle slipping into my flesh with assurance, as if he did this for a living. I should have been able to tell him what to do, but I felt like every ounce of coherence had suddenly left my brain. I knew what had prompted his take-over. He had found my sexual trigger, one I hadn’t known I had, and he wasn’t going to let anyone but himself or Kion be involved in stimulating that. Not even by accident.

 

My back arched as I felt the puncture, my thighs instantly trembling, though not from fear. I was embarrassed that the Vet was seeing this, and that should have been enough to stop it, to wilt my hard on, but it wasn’t. I felt a big hand on my stomach, and I moaned, my eyes taking in Kion as he watched me, his face a study of contrasts, surprise, and shocked desire, and anticipation of what Thierry was doing to me. There was an interest in his eyes I had not seen since I’d introduced him to Kismet, his Guide, sharp and utterly focused, this time on me. His fingers spread wide, caressing my belly. I felt the edge of Bond brushing my mind. I couldn’t help myself, I arched up into his wrist, my penis bumping his skin.

 

Kion looked down at me, at my erection, bemused. He raised his free hand, and was about to lay it over me, to grasp me in his palm, to stroke me, when Thierry said, "No." He turned to the Vet, eyes dark as flint. "Please face away, Madam Doctor. Now tell me what to do for his nipples, I will pierce them next."

 

When it finally came time to move on to my penis, I was shaking so badly I was afraid I’d fall off the table. The points of mild pain at my ears and my nipples were sapping all my control.

 

Thierry climbed up on the end of the table, parting my thighs, though the tension and trembling made it difficult for him to do it without hurting me. He lifted me, so I was spread open, my thighs resting on his much bulkier ones, my hips lifted, canted towards him. My penis in all it’s rampant, erect glory pointed up, straight at the ceiling. It was quiveringly dark red, suffused with blood, and I was gasping, groaning as he once again touched my bare skin. He took me in his hand, and swabbed me with the disinfectant. My head dropped back and I let out a moan so needing and anguished I almost denied I was the one who had made it. Oddly, I made no move to reach up and touch myself, I wanted release, ached for it, but I waited for another to give it to me, as if I had no will of my own.

 

Kion was by my head in a flash, taking my hands in his. I grabbed onto him like he was the only thing keeping me sane and on the treatment table. Thierry at the other end was waiting for the liquid to dry on my skin before finishing my final piercing. Kion was looking at me like he had never seen me before, his face was flushed, his eyes overly bright, yet dark with a strange hungry gleam. Then his face was too close for me to read his expression, and the needle entered the head of my penis. I arched back and screamed, Kion’s mouth open on my cheek and ear, his breath harsh, panting.

 

I hardly realized it when my legs were forced higher, Kion telling me not to move as he freed his hands from my grip. He took my calves in his hands, pulling me open further, with Thierry still down there, between my widespread limbs, and swabbing me again, this time behind my balls. I froze for an electric instant, my breath paralyzed in my chest, knowing what he was going to do. Then I threw my head back and begged wordlessly, my head thrashing, against Kion’s throat. His skin was dewed with sweat, I was suddenly licking that moist flesh, tasting the excitement that rode him, even as my eyes were rolling back into my head. When the last needle sank into me, hurting more than all the others combined, I was gone. My orgasm tore through me, covering my chest in hot strings, the tugs of the ring being pulled into place behind the needle’s entrance only intensified the experience. The last spasm was too much and I lost consciousness.

 

I blushed now as I lay on top of Thierry. I was more surprised than either of my Sentinels to discover that strange kink of mine. So. OK, if that counted a sex, I had had sex with them. Both of them. It hadn’t felt like the other sex I had had in my life, if anything it had been far more intense, but also far less penetrative. And neither of them had been naked in a bed or elsewhere with me. Now Thierry was naked, I felt him warm and big all along my body. He was half hard, in the way of a morning erection, and I was not. Not until the piercing was tugged at. Then I went from soft to rock hard so fast I nearly thought it was my imagination, that I’d really been hard all along.

 

Thierry smile disappeared like a switch was flipped. One instant there, the next he was looking at me with a hard, fierce wanting. His growl took me by surprise, deep and vibrating. He adjusted our positions, divesting me of my pajamas in one mighty rip, spreading me until he was nestled between my parted buttocks, the underside of his erection hot where it rested against my perineum and anus. All I could think was, no, no please not now!

 

"Ti." Jonah’s voice broke in from out in the hall. "Your office called, there is an emergency. They need you now." The other Senior Sentinel’s tone was all business, hard and efficient.

 

Thierry rolled up and out of the bed. He was out of the room in four long strides, not caring that he was both naked and erect. I just lay there flat on my back. Limp with relief, my arousal gradually disappearing. I closed my eyes. Jonah looked down at me, still outside the room, and despite wanting to, I couldn’t make my body obey me and pull the covers up to hide my nakedness. Jonah smiled at me, a terrifying predatory smile, hungry, wanting, then he turned and walked down the hall, leaving me alone in the room.

 

Apparently Thierry had enough clout to keep Jonah from taking me. But, I knew absolutely that Jonah wanted me, there was no room for doubt.


	9. Part 9

The bed dipped, and I was startled awake, my eyes snapping open.

 

Kion’s Omega, the den-Baehr, Takae-nahl was kneeling over me, gaze locked on my face. The corner of his mouth twitched in an almost smile when he saw I was awake, and aware of him. His horns, polished to a brilliant shine, gleamed, catching the morning light, glittering golden with flecks of bronze. His big hands, rough skinned, stroked down my flanks, held my hips, and I closed my eyes, shuddering, panting, trying to regain control. He lowered his lips to my belly, nudging up my shirt, until a slender strip of my skin was bared, so he might sniff the flesh drawing my scent into him, inhaling deep. He flicked out his tongue, tasting me. I shuddered at the sensation of that tongue, warm and wet laving over the strip of skin. Then he pulled away.

 

Jonah was afraid to touch me, but the Omegas, Takae-nahl among them, was not. I struggled with my body’s new, but automatic response to having a Sentinel so near me. My legs wanted to open, I wanted to wrap them around the big body above mine. I fought the urge and won, barely, managing to halt the motion when my legs were merely bent, one to each side of him, stopping before I had them wound around him. Takae-nahl grinned at me. He knew what I’d almost done. I glared back at him, my whole being shaking and panting.

 

"Theirry is proving more enticing than you anticipated, isn’t he? Your blood is singing with his fire. Come it is time for you to get up. Thierry went in early, but I will take you to his office now. Hurry, there is just time to clean you up." The Omega helped me up, planning on hurrying me along to the wash room. He kept hold of me, running his hand down my back, soothing.

 

"I…we didn’t have sex." I blurted out, it was very important to me that he know that. I was blushing furiously, not something I usually did. Takae-nahl tapped his nose even as he lifted me out of the tangled covers, setting me on shaky legs next to the bed. I wanted to grab something more to cover myself, my pajamas hung in tatters around my legs, the elastic waist shredded. Theirry's attentions had been destructive to my clothing last night, but for all that they had been welcome. Even desired, I could admit it silently to myself.

 

"I know you didn’t have sex. But my nose tells me you wanted him to." He laughed out loud at my blush. I frowned at him, fighting down the color in my cheeks.

 

"Go ahead and laugh. You don’t have to worry that he’ll do that to you!" I growled. Clutching at my PJ bottoms and my dignity, both of which were is pretty sad repair. I shuffled along until we reached the bathroom.

 

"What do you mean, Guide?" Takae asked as he turned the bath tap on.

 

"He won’t touch you, you belong to Kion. Kion doesn’t like men, so you are safe." I said, scowling. I studiously forced myself not to remember in detail how Kion had responded during my piercing. I wanted to know just where I belonged in this "little village" I was embroiled in. I was tired of trying to figure it out. I was tired of new relationships. I just wanted to be an old married man, a man who knew just where he fit in. I never have done well with relationships that weren’t exclusive. I worried incessantly every time I thought my lover even looked at someone else with speculation. I was not secure, and I knew it. But the situation I was in now…there was no way I was getting exclusivity from any of these men.

 

"Every one belongs to someone. Who do you think Kion belongs to, little one?" Takae’s pale ivory-brown face was puzzled. He drizzled a long stream of earthy smelling bath oil into the tub. He rubbed some between his fingers, carrying the scent to his nose, inhaling almost reverently. His red eyes flashed open and he gazed in my direction. He waited for my answer.

 

I gaped at him. Kion was an Alpha Sentinel. No one Owned an alpha. "What do you mean?"

 

"Who is Kion’s Senior? Don’t you know? Why do you think you are Claimed by two Sentinels? Kion belongs to Thierry, Kion is Thierry’s Junior. Thus I belong ultimately to Thierry. As do you." While the tub filled the den-Baehr was moving to light the three white candles that sat on a shelf above the reservoir. He quashed the electric lights, leaving the bathing room suffused in golden candlelight. Full of the scent of forest, clean earth and rich nature, the ferns planted alongside adding to the sense of being outside, in the woods.

 

I was confused. Clasping his hands Takae recited the short den-Baehr Prayer of Purity, steam rising around him until he looked like an ancient nature deity with his curling horns, massive physique, and moisture dotted hair, and then turned his eyes on me. "I can teach you the words in Ka’ai if you wish to pray with us." He offered gently. I was looking at him with a sense of dislocated awe. I was also irritated, feeling like an outsider, so I snapped at him. I was educated, a Vet and I knew nothing. Well, next to nothing.

 

"So, what you are telling me is…Kion and everything he Owns belongs to Thierry? That Thierry has sex with, oh I don’t know maybe a dozen others when ever he feels like it? What is this a brothel? Ghods, how did I end up I this mess? I do not belong here." Now I wanted to cry. I had to deal with too much. I was on the bottom of a very tall pile of people who called out for Thierry’s attention. It would never be my turn to be his…I paused. His what? What did I want to be to him?

 

"No. This is not a brothel. No, Thierry does not sleep with a cast of hundreds. Every person he takes to his bed is there because he cares for them. Because they are his responsibility." Takae-nahl’s red eyes blazed, and I froze caught in their quelling regard. I was just managing to hold back tears of frustration. Now I shivered with fear. But I was also angry. I hadn’t asked to be thrown into this damnable mix.

 

"Oh, and that is supposed to make it better? That I have to either rely on sex with a man who has a dozen other partners, or go without? I wonder just how much time he’ll have to spend with me? Oh, yes, and I am supposed not to have any needs he can’t satisfy. Or needs when it is not convenient for him to satisfy them. Nor am I permitted to exercise my lifelong preference for women as sex partners. That is supposed to go away, too?" I was astonished at the level of fury I felt. I felt used. I felt as if the confused feeling I’d been developing was becoming even more clouded. I felt betrayed.

 

"Guide, get a hold of yourself." Takae-nahl's voice had taken on an edge, he pinned me with his fearsome crimson eyes, a god rising out of the primordial mists. "Get in the tub and wash. This is the place of pure water, no angry, vindictive words should be spoken here. No bitterness should muddy the cleansing."

 

I stared at him. Oh for Ghod’s….. I gritted my teeth, shaking my head, almost losing it, almost screaming out the rage and frustration I was filled with, almost grabbing him an begging him to give me some relief. Sexual relief. Oh good, bring another man into this, I thought to myself. That is exactly what you need to do. Me, heterosexual as far as I knew, begging for a near stranger, and "almost alien" to ravage my body so I wouldn’t feel so frustrated. Good move, Doc. I was faced with the choice of being celibate, if it were permitted me, or, of course, the alternative was to admit I was a homosexual and had been fooling myself for my entire adult life. Always a possibility.

 

I instead obeyed the grimly scowling Omega. Drawing in a shaking breath I got rid of the tatters of my sleeping clothes, then I stepped into the hot water, and lowered myself to sit in it, gripping my thighs, pulling them up against my chest to conceal the sudden burgeoning erection I sported, while trying to regain my composure. While I was trying to come to grips with the fact I wanted to feel strong male hands on me, taking me in charge, shaking me, squeezing my arms and pressing me hard into any flat surface available,…Takae spoke the ritual words again, bowing to the candles on their tiny altar shelf, far more in control than I. Then again *he* was getting some, I’d bet on it.

 

The Omega Sentinel turned towards me, moving with feline grace to his knees while I gaped at him, transfixed, unable to look away, unable to not to draw in a moaning gasp. Helpless to tear my gaze from his. I felt like I was going mad, as if I had been given an overdose of aphrodisiacs. My heart was pounding in my chest, my breath a series of short, shallow rasps. I trembled violently enough to agitate the surface of the water in the spacious tub.

 

He leaned in, looming over me, and I waited for what he would do to me. He ran his fingers through my hair, his sensitive, Sentinel fingers learning the contours of my scalp, then floating down over my face, over my closed lids, brushing my lashes, over my mouth, and I was unable to hold back a moan. I actually licked at the tips of his fingers, but he didn’t pause to let me taste more. Then the big hands began to wash me, moving with authority over my skin, with a caressing knowledge, without so much as asking my leave. I flinched, groaning, "Takae…." I begged him.

 

"Be silent, I will wash you then we will go. On the way to Thierry we will talk. You will be permitted to ask questions, but not in the manner in which you just did. I will not tolerate such disrespect for the Senior Guardian Sentinel, nor for any who are in this Household. I can not take you to your pleasure without the permission of our Alphas. I am sorry. I can feel your needs singing along my skin, Guide. I know how badly you need release. But Thierry is not here, nor Kion. There is no one to give us the permission we need. I am not rejecting you, little one." Takae’s hands moved over me as I sat silent and miserable, washing me with a thoroughness that spoke of long practice. And, I sensed in his hands an affection I was not ready for. I sighed.

 

"I am sorry, I…" I began. The Omega placed one soapy finger over my lips. If it hadn’t been soapy I would have tasted it again. I was not so far gone as to lick soap, not yet. But maybe soon.

 

"Not here. Later." Takae told me. "I am den-Baehr, we worship the spirit of water. This is a sacred space. We will never fight here, or argue here. Some day we will make love here, on top of the moss and next to the ferns. Just not this time, this day. Your emotions are high now, so we will not speak until we are out of this place in case you can not control your words." He let his fingertips caress my mouth as he withdrew them.

 

I closed my mouth on the words that wanted to tumble out. I wanted to tell him how bad an idea it was to keep me here. How I should leave now before things got worse. But his grim expression told me I had to wait to tell him all those things.

 

In the car he picked me up and settled me on his lap. I wasn’t ready for it. I thought briefly of struggling, and getting off his damn lap, but decided against it. For now. Takae-nahl started speaking.

 

"When I first came here I was nineteen years old. Because of what I was I was not allowed to have contact with anyone who was younger than I. Doesn’t sound bad, there are plenty more people older than I was, but it was bad. I was always around people who were able to control me, to not react to my temper. They managed me. Controlled me, handled me. Until I came here, to the Hendra Pride."

 

"Kion was actually a few years younger than I. And he had no desire to Bond with me, every time we did it he was reluctant. It was quick, not deep, we’d touch and Bond and that was it. He had the temporary Guides, I didn’t. I needed him so much, but I was male. Kion was new to being a Junior Sentinel, he had no idea what he was doing to me. I floundered here for three months before Thierry came home. He took me under his wing. He took me to his bed, he loved me. He Bonded me. He saved me. He saw that I learned what I was supposed to be, what I was capable of, he taught me to understand all of what I was, of the primal Sentinel, of the Omega. Not just the socially acceptable parts. He taught Kion to touch me, to accept that he and I needed to touch, to be closer than we were, that I came before all others."

 

"I hated sharing them. I hated knowing others had a claim on them. I hated listening to Thierry taking others. I lay in my bed with Kion’s body next to mine, and longed to be elsewhere, with Thierry. But I am not Alpha, I obey. As you are not Alpha. So you will also obey." Takae smoothed back my hair. Then he slid one hand down my body to my genitals. I was startled, as he massaged them. I grew hard in an instant, his hand almost hurting as he rolled me in his strong fingers, squeezing.

 

I let out a small cry. A combination of lust and pain. I was distantly shocked at myself.

 

"Spread your legs." Takae told me. I hesitated, staring at him. He slapped me on my thigh, hard. And my legs flew apart. I nearly ejaculated. Just his slap had me on the razor’s edge, panting. Tears were running down my face. I was really messed up , and I was just finding out about it now. No it had not happened over night, I knew enough psychology to know that, it had been inside of me for a very, very long time. It had just picked now to come out. I swear that I had never raised a hand to any lover, nor had any lover hit me to enhance sex. This was all new to me. And not very welcome.

 

"I know what you are." Takae-nahl said laying a hand against my bruised, heated flesh. "I know what you need, I have it waiting for you, you will have it soon. I will teach you before it destroys you. Thierry will cherish you for what you are, it is not a shameful thing. It is simply what you are. Do you understand me? It is not wrong." It made no difference to me what he said, I was too busy crying by then.


	10. Part 10

Warnings: M/M. Non-consent. Servitude, Slavery, Ownership. Not nice and simple, not sappy. H/C.

 

 

"Who are you?" I asked the slender young man standing in the otherwise unoccupied kitchen. It was no later than 3 am, and no earlier. I had certainly not expected to encounter anyone when I made my way so very quietly to the kitchen for a clandestine glass of juice. He was dark haired, lithe, with long lean and sculpted muscles, with a small remnant of body fat in the best places. He turned towards me, dark eyes deep and warm, his motion liquid, graceful, mesmerizing. Oh, crap. A Guide. And not Thierry’s or Kion’s.

 

"I didn’t see you there," he said, lowering the glass of juice he’d just taken a sip from. We’d obviously had the same impulse. His mouth glistened. He wasn’t devastatingly beautiful, his features were fairly average, his nose a tiny bit long, but his coloring was extraordinary. His skin was warm, ivory cream, his brows and hair mahogany, long and very thick. His eyes stood out in all that pale flesh. He was an average sort of guy you couldn’t look away from. I sighed. I was an average guy that most people looked over, and never noticed.

 

He wore only gray sweats around his hips, his feet were bare. His belly was tattooed, faint gold accenting the delicate black tracery. The sigil was elaborate, incredibly perfect, a masterpiece, as was the tattooing of the skin at his wrists and ankle. At the ankle the lines spilled over onto the balls of his feet. It took me a while to recognize the markings. Then a bit longer to close my astonished mouth. I fumbled behind me for a chair and dropped into it.

 

He was a prostitute. Or rather a male courtesan. At least had been at some time. I could think of no reason for him to be in here if he was still practicing his profession. All the Sentinels were far too possessive to allow him to serve others if he belonged to them. And take my word for it, once you were in their bed, you did belong to them. Sharing was not a strong point. And the Sentinels shouldn’t have enough sexual heat left over for him either. Not unless they were really the Ghods they thought themselves to be. So the same conclusion I’d reached before was the only answer, he was a Guide of this House, one I hadn’t been introduced to yet.

 

Before I could say more, remark on what I’d figured out, Seneschal entered the room. The tall, powerfully built, Omega Prime of Gregory, one of the Senior Alpha Sentinels of the house. Sen walked over to the young man, stroked a hand down his arm, as if tasting him with his palm, never slowing, and advanced on me. He reached my side, just as I gained my feet, the chair’s legs scraping over the floor as I rose in haste. Sen ran his hands over me, lightly, not with the possessiveness of Takae-nahl or Thierry’s Omegas, just making sure I was OK, since my heart rate always skyrocketed when I was around the Sentinels.

 

I’d learned in the two months since I was brought to reside here that I was a Guide, a damn weak one, but one who definitely belonged to the Sentinels of the house, especially the Senior Thierry, and his Junior Kion.

 

Seneschal was an intense long-limbed man of apparent Scandinavian ancestry. He handled me as if I was his own. But he was outside the pairing that owned me. He was an Omega, a primal Sentinel, a predator and a protector. I wondered if that was alright, most of the other Omegas were protective, but they didn’t give me this sensation of...possession. Sen was radiating his ownership of....me.

 

I shivered and leaned away from him. His hand fisted in my hair, pulling, bending my neck back, then he bent to lower his fangs to my throat, while I let out a bleat of shock, my hands scrabbling at him. I felt his arousal against my belly, high up, nearly to my chest, he was very tall, like they all were, these damn Sentinels. His fangs scraped along my bared skin, and my whole body broke out in gooseflesh. He lifted me until my feet were off of the ground. I pushed at him with my knees, wanting to put a little space between us. My legs were definitely closed, and they were going to stay that way if I had any say in the matter.

 

"Sen." The name was said very quietly. I was too far gone to look at the source of the words right away. My knees dropped away from the primal’s torso, I hung, shuddering in Seneschal’s grip. He lifted his head fractionally and growled, harsh, rumbling, possessive. The next growl was inquiring, less threatening. Someone came up to us, laid their hands on me. I barely kept back a scream, not expecting it.

 

Bigger hands took my arms and I was held, dangling, helpless between them, and against a powerful chest. I looked up, and saw it was Kion, which only deepened my shock. Kion rarely touched me. Sure, he was the one who initially laid Claim to me, but Thierry was the one who spent time with me. I thought of myself as belonging to Thierry if to anyone. But, I knew that Kion considered me his own, the simple fact of the lack of attraction for me would not be enough for him to give me up. He was a Sentinel after all and they were so damn possessive, all of them.

 

Kion held me against him with one arm, and ran his free hand up over my chest, checking me, but his eyes were locked with Sen’s. Sen was still pressed to me, I was caught between the two of them, like a bug. Seneschal’s hands wandered upward from my thighs, moving unerringly towards my crotch. My head dropped back onto Kion’s thickly muscled shoulder. Oh Ghods, now what? I thought frantically as Sen spread my thighs and guided them around his hips.

 

"Nuit, why is he in this state?" Kion murmured, in a low, even tone, one designed not to rile the other Sentinel, who had begun growling and sniffing in his exploration of me. The youthful man who I had not known answered, bowing to the Sentinel as he began his reply. They stayed a respectful distance apart, the table between them, the Alpha and the Guide that was not his.

 

"He did not settle when I touched him. I tried, Alpha. He would not stay in the room. I followed him here. He sat in the corner, away from the light. He was quiet until this one came in. I was going to give him some time, then coax him back to the rooms." Nuit said, not coming any closer. "I did not have time. He is becoming restless with the horns coming in so fast."

 

"Sen." Kion’s voice sweetened, gentled, full of dark, whispering promises. "Don't you wish to go back to your room with Nuit?"

 

Seneschal acted like he didn’t hear the question. He buried his nose in my hair and growled again. His big hand moved around and under to cup my butt, pressing my thighs wide around his body, despite my wishes to the contrary. I couldn’t fight, because Sentinels did bad things when someone fought them. I had been warned to stay away from the Alphas, but the Omegas were supposed to be safe for all Guides. Apparently not true. Kion nodded his head once, unable to miss what Seneschal was doing to me, how his long fingers moved hungrily, reverently over my skin. Kion moved in tighter, whispered instructions into my hair, his breath warm on my scalp.

 

"Talk to him, Clive. Let’s try to get him back to his room, to bed. Nuit, go wake Gregory, bring him here." Kion said to the slender, tattooed man. Gregory had the right to control his Omega, to intervene. Kion could fight the man, force him to let me loose, but he and Sen were most likely friends, they cared for each other as Alpha and Omega, and so Kion wouldn't want to fight over one of us. And there was a possibility that the Omega would defeat him. While being ridden by the hormones associated with horn development, the den-Baehr Omega wouldn’t have the inclination to obey commands. He might fight over anything, driven mad, in what was, despite his age, akin to Mundane human adolescence time, times ten.

 

And Kion didn’t want to fight. Especially over this. A Guide. Me. Not if it could be avoided. A fight would disrupt the Household. I was more Thierry’s headache than Kion’s, but Kion was here protecting me, trying to retain the serenity of our home. He wouldn’t want to go toe to toe with a Sentinel of his Household. Still, possession of a Guide was not easily given up. It was a powerful instinct to hold onto the Guide. Especially in the face of another’s attempt at possession. I was going to have to be very careful not to provoke any sudden action between the Sentinels.

 

"Sen?" I asked, unsure of just what to say. I had never spoken directly to this particular Omega, I’d seen him from a distance, but I had not formally met him, until now, under these less than ideal circumstances. It was also true of several of the other Omegas as well.

 

"Sen?" I called to him softly. "Can you hear me? He’s not doing anything. He’s not hearing me." Nervously, I directed the last to Kion who I could see if I looked up. Seneschal was holding me tightly. His tongue flickered out, running wetly up the length of my throat. I could not stop the tremor that ran through me, then. I sensed someone coming up alongside us, I strained to see who it was.

 

Tall, dark haired, impeccably groomed. It was Gregory. The polar opposite of the picture his currently disheveled and very blond Omega, was presenting just now. Gregory’s eyes flicked to me, examined me, in that rapid assessing way Sentinels use. I knew he saw all the details, even in the dimly lit kitchen. And I knew things had just gotten a hell of a lot worse for me. Kion might go up against an Omega for me, but Gregory was a Senior. Kion was a Junior. A very uneven match.

 

Gregory was still in his button down silk shirt and his suit pants. His tie was in place, his hair in place. He put one hand on Seneschal’s shoulder. The Omega jumped, his long hair lashing around him as if in a sudden wind. Energy crackled around us. Gregory stroked a hand down Sen’s arm, dissipating some of the sting. I was still having trouble getting used to the way these so masculine men touched each other. With utter comfort, and deep, true feelings. Not like Mundane men who tried not to touch each other, so artificially macho, even when they wanted to, they'd pretend they didn’t.

 

"You are overloaded, cher. Come with me. I will take care of you, my Omega, my prime." Crooning, Gregory ran the same hand through Sen’s hair, rubbing gentle circles around….Crap! There were four, very large mounds visible under that thick hair. Seneschal was growing a double set of horns, a hell of a lot faster than I had heard was possible! He had to be going mad with the level of hormones it was taking to do it. His lips peeling back to show his fangs seemed a poor omen to the peaceful resolution I hoped for.

 

Gregory was speaking. I struggled to make myself concentrate on something besides my horror at being held by a den-Baehr in the midst of the Change. I had to concentrate on being reasonable, or I was going to get hurt. I forced myself to listen to what Gregory was saying in the strange crooning tone. It was too quiet for me to hear, Sentinel soft, just for the two of them.

 

"Guide prepare yourself for him." Gregory’s order spoiled any chance I had of figuring out a rational way out of the situation. Even so, it took me a while to figure out he was talking to me and not to Nuit who was standing behind him. He was not looking at me, he was concentrating most of his attention on his beloved Omega.

 

I was the last one in the room who realized Gregory was talking to me.

 

"What?" I asked stupidly, it wasn’t possible that he was serious. I gaped at him, while Sen gripped me harder, trying to muscle me away from Kion. Kion growled, not loosening his own hold, the grip actually tightening until I gasped with the force of it. Sen snarled, I felt his muscles bunch, huge, fearsome power flexed against and around me. They were going to pull me apart in this struggle to possess me. I was not able to hold back a small cry of distress.

 

Gregory reached up and put a hand on Kion’s throat. No claws. But even I could interpret what a hold like that must mean. Oh, shit. Kion looked at the Senior but did not make a move to let Seneschal take me away from him. In fact Kion bared his fangs at the Senior Sentinel. Gregory, in turn, let out a growl of pure menace. Kion didn’t back down. He hissed through bared fangs.

 

"No. Clive is virgin, he has not been fully Claimed. He will not take Seneschal first before us." His growl was an octave deeper, harder than his usual speaking voice. Us, I assumed, meant the Thierry/Kion unity. Things deteriorated pretty quickly from there. I was the rope in a tug of war between two very strong men.

 

Prevented from taking me, Seneschal responded by sliding out his claws in an effort to improve his grip. As both his hands were dug into my flesh the result was no less than having ten knives pressed into the flesh of my thighs and lower back. I screamed into the smothering hand that was suddenly over my mouth. In panic I stared up at the owner of the hand. My pain filled eyes met with the much calmed gaze of the Alpha Senior, Gregory.

 

"You are nothing." Gregory said, not moving his hand, catching my second scream against his palm. I strained to draw a breath with his hand in the way, my nostrils flaring in panic. "I can barely sense you even with my hands on you. Why should my Omega want you?" He was not happy with any of this, well we had that in common, ‘cause I was hating it, too. Fiery pain lanced through my buttocks in waves.

 

"Taste him, Grey, taste him, and smell him when you do, and answer your own question." Thierry said as he entered the room. I was never so relieved to hear Thierry’s thick, rich voice as I was in that moment. I felt the tension not precisely leave the room, but it was definitely less, the framework of control was back. Gregory looked at me with curiosity, speculation, his hand loosening so I could draw a full breath, my heart pounded against my ribs. I returned his look with trepidation. But, I was still being held, punctured, and I couldn’t control anything that was happening.

 

Gregory leaned in, and laved the side of my face with his broad, moist tongue. I cringed, more from surprise than distaste. It didn’t feel bad, but I had very little experience with men licking me. I watched his gray-blue eyes drift shut, flutter, then open again. They burned into my own. Oh, fuck. He licked me again, tongue running up into my hair, behind my ear, his breath hissing out. He smiled. I almost screamed. I held out my hand, flung it out actually towards Thierry. I knew that only Thierry had the clout to help me out of this.

 

Thierry laughed, low, not a sound to mock or to upset, but one of appreciation. He knew what Gregory was feeling now. He’d felt the same. I’d seen that look on his face, too. It scared me more on Gregory’s face than on Thierry’s. At least I think it did. And Kion’s when he’d watched me being pierced. In fact I had seen that look on just about every Sentinel’s face I had spent any amount of time with since coming here to this place. Thierry moved closer, our eyes locked, then he looked back at Gregory. Gregory was licking his lips thoughtfully.

 

I was a tasty snack indeed. It would all come down to which of the Senior Sentinels wanted me more: Gregory, or Thierry. I was no more than the spoils in this small war.


	11. Part 11

"I will take him, with Sen. Will that satisfy you he is well protected?" Gregory asked the other Senior Sentinel. His hand was still covering my mouth, I couldn't tell them what I thought of that plan. I wanted to tell Thierry to say no, to beg him, but I couldn’t. Turns out the Elder Senior Sentinel and I were of a similar mind on this. He shook his head, toffee colored skin gleaming in the half light.

 

"No. He will not be taken by either of you. He is Mine." Thierry said reasonably, without resorting to a show of fang or claw. He didn’t include Kion in his statement, but Kion made no objection. This was between Seniors. Juniors who were wise held their tongues. Gregory and Thierry had locked gazes.

 

Thierry touched Gregory’s hand where it was still cupped over my mouth, his finger pads ran over the tanned skin, tracing the taut tendons. His other hand took my outstretched one for just a second, long enough to squeeze it then let go, continuing up the back of my arm, over my deltoid, down my back, to stop, cupping my buttock. There was a charged moment when I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. Then Gregory let his restraining limb fall away, shifting his body weight away. And I was given up to Thierry's ownership.

 

"Sen is fixed on him, imprinting him. You haven't even bothered to finish claiming him. Why not let Sen have him, for now?" Gregory said, his own voice reasonable on the surface, but also a little rougher than it had been, strained.

 

"You know as well as I, there is no now, unless it continues into the future." Thierry rumbled, his breath flowing out over my back, warming me. "You know that, so why the game? Why do you want him, my brother?"

 

"His scent. Scent and taste are combined. His taste will be worth having. A fitting gift for my Omega's new horns. He should have a feast worthy of the event." Gregory said, his voice deepening into registers that rivaled Thierry's. "I seek only that which is not fully claimed, and as such is free."

 

"Wrong. He is claimed. He is tasted, he is mine." Thierry returned. Then they stared at each other, waiting for the flinch. I saw Nuit, standing like he was made of stone, hardly daring to breathe, Kion and Seneschal, holding me, immobile, Sen's face buried in my neck, snuffling along the side of it, under my chin, while I trembled. The silence grew, long and tense, until the tension was crushing.

 

Gregory took a step back. "He is yours. But, I ask. Do not deny my Omega. He is fragile now. Do not damage him."

 

"I will not." Thierry said.

 

While the issue had been resolved between Seniors, it had not been finished from the point of view of the Omega who was still holding me. Thierry touched Sen’s near hand, the one with claws dug into my back. Sen released me instantly. I bit back my scream, forcing it into a gasp, as those natural daggers slipped out of my flesh, leaving behind furrows, and a rush of pure, crystalline pain. I felt blood start to run down my body instantly, in thin streams. Gregory made to take me in his arms. Thierry forestalled him.

 

"No. You will not have him. If Sen fixes on him, then we will talk, but Clive will not be yours." Thierry said to Gregory, still in that so reasonable tone, nudging Kion, who released me as well. Leaving me free for Thierry to gather me up against his bare chest. Thierry’s arms cocooned me, and somehow the pain was immediately less, or at least different, bearable. The fear that bad things were about to happen…well that remained. I wrapped myself painfully around Thierry, hanging on.

 

I heard the soft plop of blood dripping off of my body and landing on the floor. I felt a hand ghost over my thigh, the small of my back, smearing the blood. I saw Sen lift the hand, lick at it, savor the blood with the half closed eyes of a drunk. He was looking at me through the slitted openings of his eyes. He swayed. Gregory caught him, pulling the taller Omega against his side, supporting Seneschal with an arm around his waist, not caring that my blood now smeared his expensive clothing.

 

"Damn it, Ti…." Gregory rumbled, running a hand over his Omega, searching for problems, assessing just how out of it the other Sentinel was. Gaze narrowed and threatening, Gregory was facing down Thierry. He bared his teeth, his eyes once more going to me. "I will not chance losing Sen…" Thierry cut him off. Moving out of the kitchen with me in his arms. Gregory was stiff with anger. He opened his mouth, as I looked at him from over Thierry's shoulder. I knew he was going to follow. Thierry cut off the escalation by speaking.

 

"Come, all of you, Sen and Nuit, come. You will not enter the body of my Guide, either of you, Grey, not in any way, I demand your word to me you won’t try. I don’t want either of you hurt. But, disobey me on this and I will punish you both. I will hurt you. The Guide is mine." Thierry said to Gregory. All the while Thierry had his back to them, walking, and they followed.

 

Gregory nodded after several long, tense moments when it seemed he would disagree with Thierry, his jaw clenched too tightly to speak. Sen was still too absorbed in licking my blood from his hand and extended claws to make any kind of acknowledgment, he followed because Gregory was guiding him after Thierry. Sen heard nothing, agreed to nothing, too focused to respond. But, Gregory’s word bound him as surely as his own.

 

I hid my face when I saw we were in a bedroom. A large bed in the center, heaped with pillows and coverings that Nuit scrambled to drag off and toss onto the floor. He stood next to the bed, head down, watching the Seniors, Gregory in particular, through the veil of his lashes.

 

Thierry lay on the bed, bearing me down with him, to lie next to him, "Nuit, come here." Thierry stripped Nuit of his sweat pants. He had the slim young man lay face down on top of him, chest to chest. His knees were on the bed to either side of Thierry’s hips. I heard Gregory growl at the sight of his own guide spread legged, wrapped around Thierry's hips, but the other Senior didn’t try to pull me or Nuit away from Thierry.

 

Thierry pulled me over to lay on top of Nuit’s back, so I straddled his hips and waist, my chin resting on Nuit’s shoulder. I was surprised to note Nuit was taller than I, bulkier than he seemed. Or was I really that much smaller than I had thought?. I could see into Thierry’s gaze. I was terrified. His big hands smoothed my upper back, my hair, up to the nape of my neck, massaging. I shivered. All the things I feared, the dangerous men, The primal Sentinel set on mating me, were behind me, where I could not see them. The last place I wanted Sen.

 

"Do not resist, do not fight. Trust in me to protect you, Guide. I am your Sentinel, and I claim you." Thierry cupped his hand around my nape and his thumb rubbed soothingly over my sweat dewed skin. The look we shared was intense, I gasped, sucking in air. He spoke to the others in the room while we held that look. Everything stilled, I lay quiescent, waiting for what ever he required of me. Whatever use he intended. It made no sense that I gave in so easily, but I was doing it, just as he was telling me to, holding still, not moving not even a twitch. There was a small part of my mind screaming for me to get up and run, but it was so far away….and it did not have the power of the eyes that held mine.

 

"Grey, come here, I will allow Sen to take Clive’s blood from his skin, only. He may enter Nuit and take his satisfaction there in the Bond. Not in Clive’s body. Do not mistake me. While I will tolerate the touch of your Omega's skin on Clive's skin, I will not accept their bodies joined."

 

The other Senior nodded, jaw grimly clenched, and brought the shaking Omega over to the bed. I felt the weight settle onto me. It hurt. Bad. All the brand new wounds pressed on by the weight of the giant man. I felt Sen slide against me, his movement lubricated by my sluggishly flowing blood. Sen trembled, rocking my whole body. I thought I might vomit from the building tension and fear. And from the thrill of lust that spiked through me as the pain peaked.

 

I moaned, the aches of my body becoming more intense with every passing moment. I ached all over, I was face down and I wanted to turn over, to face what was going to happen. I wanted to push Sen away, to fight and claw with my ridiculous human nails, to defend myself.

 

But my body wanted something very different than my mind. My blood was heating, I moaned, unable to stop my instinctive arch, not away, but up into the bulk of the Sentinel above me. He responded with a hissed breath, and teeth scraping over my nape, just below Thierry's hand. I let out a tiny cry, feeling my skin contract, my balls tighten, and my erection suddenly filled with blood, hard and aching, pressed into Nuit's back. Nuit murmured something I did not hear.

 

Thierry hushed me, holding me still with one great hand. Nuit’s head was on Thierry’s shoulder, face turned in towards Thierry’s throat, I could see the tiny puffs of air stirring the dark hair of the Elder Senior Sentinel's hair, as the other Guide breathed, he had to be half crushed by our weight on top of him. Nuit's mahogany hair fanned out around his face and shoulders and lay like a silk curtain all around Thierry, a field of satin.

 

"Lick him. Clean him." Thierry whispered the command, Sentinel soft, to Sen. And the Omega obeyed, lifting up off of my back, causing another spasm of pain that had me moving, arching and full of a dark, thick need. Under me, Nuit drew in a deep, full breath.

 

Sen’s hot tongue touched me, and I groaned, his tongue laved my buttocks and lower back. Hot, wet strokes of his tongue. I wanted to close my legs, I felt vulnerable and exposed. Nuit was just as open, but he was beneath me, partly covered by me, And he was familiar with the big Sentinel. What guarantee did I have that Sen was in any shape to have good aim? I didn’t want him, or anyone touching me down there. But, I had no control here, and of course his tongue did wander off course. I stiffened in horror and in outraged modesty. My body shivering in reaction to the invasion, my blood diverting to fill my penis tighter, fuller. My Ghod, no, please. My face flamed. My heart skipped a beat, and my penis surged.

 

Sen licked me again, wandering with unerringly, intimate precision between my buttocks, flickering there, while I fought back a cry of mortification, of pure lust, then Thierry snarled. I had not expected it to feel like it did. And feeling that frisson of guilty pleasure made it worse for me. Feeling the desire rip through me, making me feel the burning want, I had to bite my tongue to keep from begging. My will, my shame, melting away, I wiggled, opening, wanting. Thierry snarled again, this time with words.

 

"Control your Omega, Grey. Do it now." Thierry said, his voice almost unrecognizable, as it deepened into threat. "I meant that no part of Sen would enter my Guide and I hold you to your word. That includes his tongue." The bed dipped next to us, and I felt Gregory pressed to my side, dressed in his perfectly creased, blood dappled slacks even now. Heat poured off of him. I moaned, rapidly losing what little control I’d thought I had. I wanted Gregory as soon as his clothed body brushed against mine. I felt his power, his allure, nearly as potent as Thierry’s. I was horrified at my desire, it froze me in place. I felt disloyal. I cried.

 

I was spread open, waiting for what would happen. Wondering if Sen would indeed plunge into me, fantasizing that Gregory would instead. I did not want the Omega, I wanted the Omega's master. My answer came in the form of Gregory’s hands. One guided Sen to the place he was to find his release in Nuit’s body, the other blocked Sen from entering me. I nearly screamed my frustration at not being taken, not being beneath the big body as he pierced me. He took Nuit, and I was left, unfilled.

 

So, I lay relatively protected, licked clean of blood, feeling the movement of the very passionate Omega against my own body, while he took his Bonding with the former Courtesan who lay just beneath me. And I fumed in humiliated want, barely holding on, needing so badly I almost begged to be included, my erection rubbed maddeningly against the back of the man under me. Needing to feel that which my active imagination, and the huffing breath of the Guide on whom I lay, and the growls of the Sentinel on my back told me was happening. They coupled, hard and urgent, with me between them, Sen licking and biting my shoulders, and my neck. Pushing his nose deep into my wild, disheveled hair.

 

And I was not taken. I was still virgin. I was still empty. For which I was grateful, and greatly disappointed. Thierry buried his hand in my hair, and raised my head so I looked at him, so that I had to meet his very dark, velvet eyes. He raised up, and claimed my mouth, a light touch of lips, his tongue flickering over my lips and face. A touch that deepened, drew me in, opened me. I sucked on that part of him that was in me, wanted other places to be filled.

 

"Please." It was me, my voice. "Sir. Please. I can't do this. Don't make me wait."

 

Thierry wound his hand in my hair, forcing my mouth back to his. Sen, behind me, was lifted off, around to lay along my side, and then Nuit disappeared from between us. I clung with deperate want to the big body beneath mine, to the muscular hills and valleys, wanting to ride him, his corded abs to my completion. Then a big body moved behind me, pressed down my back. And I moaned into Theirry's mouth and down his throat as the burning grew, crwling up my body, and down, gathering in my pelvis.

 

I tore my mouth away from Thierry's. "Oh ghod." I whimpered. As Gregory mounted my body. Theirry hissed in my ear, warning. Gregory's huge arms were planted on each side of my body, brushing Thierry's wide shoulders. He grinned down with feral eyes into Thierry's face. His shirt was gone, as were his trousers, and all there was between him and me, was the heat of our skin, and sweat and blood.

 

Theirry's hands shot up, to grab his fellow Senior Sentinel, Gregory bared his fangs, growled. "Share him with me." He inhaled. "Share your Guide. Smell him, he is in heat, Ti. He needs to be taken, needs it like he needs to eat, to drink, to live." He lapped at my neck. "I can taste in his sweat, his blood."

 

"He is mine." Thierry growled back. His own tongue dancing over my chest and upraised arm. He burrowed into my throat, taking my mouth, plundering it, catching my begging sounds. As Gregory let more of his weight settle onto me.

 

"Then take him. Here and now. Take him." Gregory challenged, lowering his face towards the darker man's. "Or let me take him. I want him. Now. I want to fill him, possess him, swallow his seed, lick mine out of his sated body. Fuck him if you want him, Ti, don't dangle him out here to tempt the rest of us to madness. No one else has, or wants to have, your control."

 

Thierry hissed pulling my head to one side, rising up, and fixing his mouth over that of the other Sentinel, gripping his skull hard. They kissed, not the soft, seductive kisses he'd given me, but a harsh battling kiss, each fighting for supremacy, falling apart at last, gasping, blood dripping from Gregory's cut lip.

 

"Take him, then. Take him." Gregory murmured, his voice softer, not so commanding, eyes hot on Thierry's face. He leaned down and nuzzled the corner of Thierry's mouth.

 

I tried to turn my head, tried to lift higher, straining up, and I just reached his face, my tongue flicking out, licking his chin, both of them. The taste of them, the rasp of the shaved cheeks, the smooth curve of their mouths, it flooded my senses. I licked, bit and nipped, fighting the pain in my neck to twist at such an angle. Anything to fill my mouth. Anything to fill my body. I arched up into one man, and down into the other.


	12. Part 12

Warnings: Slash, m/m, Ownership. Dehumanization. D/s. Blood.

 

Gregory pressed closer, a long, hot line of muscle, damp with sweat, and maybe other fluids, behind me. Muscle and....well arousal. I felt that very clearly. He was hard, fully erect. Iron under velvet, sliding between my cheeks, slippery wet with his pre-ejaculate and my own salty sweat and blood. I murmured my need, stopping only just short of begging as Gregory shifted and a thrill of lust spiked through me as the pain of my lacerations tore it's way up my thighs and hips.

 

Gregory's hand ran down the side of my body. It was a hand that, unlike the rest of him, was calloused, not smooth. I felt the rasp of those callouses as his palm moved over me, found the gashes in my skin, touched them, smeared them. I hissed in delight, my body singing, begging, compelling me to push into the hollow of his hips, to lift my buttocks into his low belly, to open myself. I shook head to toe with a shiver of anticipation.

 

Gregory growled, his great tail thumping hard onto the bed next to the three of us. His claws sank into the bedding, the fabric letting out a screaming creak as the talons embedded, and I let out my own scream, fighting to rise up, to get my knees under me, so I could offer myself. My cry broke against Thierry's chest, I licked him, his beautiful, flawless skin, the taste of him filling my mouth, making me dizzy with want. His hands held my arms tight around my biceps, I moaned, and desperate, I bit at him, feeling the act shiver through his frame. A throb of heated blood filled me, filled my cock to straining madness, I writhed on top of him.

 

Thierry growled. "He is mine," he repeated, harshly. His hand moved up and fastened around Gregory's throat, his grip firming. Gregory just lifted his chin and let the hand possess him, the fingers dig in, locking around his windpipe in warning. He let out a strange sound, asking, begging, needing, a sound that raised all the hairs over my body. He pressed in tighter, his heat touching me there, in my most intimate places, warming my ass, like a kiss to tender flesh. I trembled afraid to move, afraid I would dislodge him.

 

Thierry's body went still under me, sprawled on the destroyed bed. I mewled into the heat of his skin, licked him again, nipped at him. Found one of the dark coins of his nipples, heard his tail thump, just as loudly as Gregory's had. He shuddered, the motion transmitting to me all along where we touched.

 

I found the sound Gregory had made echoing from my own throat, and I failed to stop it's release. Thierry let out a new, growling hiss. Gregory moaned a second time, and I followed, sweet pained sound, tearing in urgent need from my mouth. I felt it. I felt the tip of Gregory's erection, it was *there* at the entrance to my body, there waiting, holding at the portal, with only enough pressure to remain in contact, not be moved aside, not slip away. Nor delve inside.

 

I lay still as an in drawn breath. My thighs quivering, waiting with every cell in my body, to be taken, pierced and filled. My hips and perineum instinctively relaxed, gone soft with desire, melting, waiting. My anus so ready to be sundered that I felt almost like I was drawing him inside, myself, not his movement, providing the impetus. I hissed out my bliss, so hard I was afraid to look down to see the purpling result of my erection, ready to burst from neglect.

 

It was my turn to make the sound first, the begging note, shaming me, but coming from some place so deep inside my brain, tapping into the primitive, hormone driven recesses of Sentinel and guide. That place where I was only guide. Only need, only lust. Only empty. Waiting to be filled. Melting around the large touch at the entrance to the hungry heat of my body.

 

Gregory squirmed in tighter, his erection insinuating itself further between my buttocks, rubbing against my tender flesh. Parting me a tiny fraction, beginning to open the portal muscle, to dilate me, enter me, my flesh melted, my resistance long gone, my legs trembling as I opened wide, around Thierry, but in doing so, I opened to Gregory. Gregory arched, Thierry's eyes burned, his fingers flexing. Gregory choked, shuddered. I felt the heat of the blood run from the wounds in his neck, onto my back. Felt the wash of warm wetness drip.

 

"Give him to me." Gregory croaked through the strangling grip. And Thierry rose up, huge and lethal, bearing Gregory over, to rest on his back, Thierry on me, gasping shaking on top of the other Alpha. Sandwiched between the two fearsome Sentinels. Gregory's body, not relinquishing it's position in the cleft of my body, was driven into me by the involuntary move. I screamed, not ready, not able, but needing it all. I could not rise up, away, could not eject him from me. And why would I want to?

 

I lay there panting, the guardian muscle pierced, but not nearly enough. It hurt, that little bit of him, just the tip, as it lodged inside. A wonderful cramping pain that cried out for more. I felt the spasm that gripped me, hard, squeezing, and painful. I shook, a wave of intense need rippling over my bare skin. My cries were soft, hungry. I felt Gregory surge in answer, splitting me in just the way I wanted. The Sentinel, the master, the alpha, inside, an inch maybe less, maybe more, giving me a taste of what feast I craved. He bit me then, hard, his hands going down to grip me, hold me, prevent me from moving, though the last thing I wanted to do was escape. I wanted him to drive all the way into me, to split me wide and ride me to madness. I hardly understood the words from Thierry as they came.

 

"You should not be willing to die for this." Thierry said, in his low rumbling voice. His grip, with claws unsheathed, relaxed, the points withdrawing from the scored flesh of Gregory's throat. "And I should not be willing to kill you for it. A stranger, yes, but not you, not my ally. Why is this so?" Thierry loomed over me, pressing me hard into Gregory. Gregory who made no move to hide the vulnerable curve of his neck, who lay still but for the wave of his hips, the thrust, a fraction deeper each time into me.

 

"I must have him. His scent fills me to madness." Was the only answer the second Sentinel gave. I echoed him. I must be taken, filled. I rested my head , on Thierry's chest, as we were moved again, this time Gregory falling out of my body, bringing from me a cry of frustration and loss.

 

"Come," Thierry said. "Share him with me." Gregory let out a voiceless rush of air, coming up behind me, hard, long and just what I needed to have. Dripping with wetness, the liquid running down the curve of my spread buttocks, my legs, the swollen, blood filled curve of my perineum. He shifted, positioning, and I held my breath, afraid, eager, anticipating.

 

And Gregory slid into me, long and thick and painful. Oh Ghod. Thierry pressed me close, and the weight above me bore me down hard, my back aligned with Gregory's body, and I could not move, not forward nor back. I could only lay as I was, taken, pierced, filled, and screaming with what little voice I had left in me, as he rode into me, deep, deeper. Far, farther, opening me in a way I had never imagined was possible, one that would be the only way the burning I had could ever again be satisfied.

 

"Oh." It came from me, a word, a sound. When I had not believed I could still talk. The rasp of a tail, who's I could not guess, ran over my leg, curling around my calf, over my foot, caressing. Gregory's arms came around me as he lifted me up, straddling Thierry who was once more underneath us. I was held tightly, a huge hand splayed over my low belly, my cock slapping into it as he drove into me, surged in, and out. My body willing to service his, my body accepting all of him, every painful, tearing inch, with agonized pleasure. Dizzy.

 

Thierry reached out, came up on an elbow, touched my erection, squeezed me, my cock, my balls, all of it, gently, but not so I doubted he was a strong, demanding Alpha, who would take from me what he wanted, who would take me to my pleasure. Gregory went deep again, and I could think no longer. The hand on me, grip tightening, the cock sheathed within me, too large, too long, too wonderful. Driving me to madness.

 

I wailed my first release, filling Thierry's palm with my pearly seed. He licked at it, tasting, his eyes going impossibly darker, more bestial as he fed on my fluid. Gregory made a hungry, demanding sound, and the hand, still wet with some of my cum was lifted to his mouth, and he ate at it, tongue flickering, teeth flashing, fully extended fangs. He roared, his erection swelling to rigid steel inside me. I whimpered, the pressure terrible on my over tender, over pleasured prostate, ghod such bliss, pure tortured sensation. His heated release filling me to over flowing.

 

Then I was thrown down on my back, legs raised, pushed high, as they lapped at me, at the cum dripping out of my body. Tongues dipping into me, the loosened entrance to my body, not giving me time to feel shame or distress. Feeding, two huge Sentinels, long tongues, licking stabbing onto me. Fucking me with quicksilver wetness, slick and hot, while I shivered and shivered with the aftershocks of my orgasm lingering. My moans were sighs, no strength left in me. Used as I was meant to be. Used as I wanted to be, achingly tender, sore. Sated. Taken.

 

Then Thierry moved up, spread my thighs and pressed into me, into my soaked entrance, like a hot knife into butter, the feel of him, of his mass, I felt it rise in me, higher, farther, deeper until I would swear he rode all the way into my chest, sending my eyes rolling back. He claimed me with each inward slide, I couldn't say how it was different, but it was.

 

Oh, ghod. And that was everything.


End file.
